Emovere Curatio
by JennyLeigh
Summary: When everything is lost, and everything is taken, a spark of hope might be found in the most unexpected of places.
1. When everything falls apart,

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything in the Who or Torchwood universe - I only wish I did. Nothing belongs to me, everything belongs to the creators. I just like to play around in the universe. :)**

**Many sincere thanks to Liv16, Figure in Black, Ryan, and TV-a-holic, all of which inspired, encouraged, and helped me to make the most of my first DW fan fiction story.**

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy. Reviews very welcome!**

...

**"Goodnight sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." - Hamlet**

...

The TARDIS jerked and shivered as she dematerialized, transporting herself from reality into that of the chaotic time vortex. The two passengers within the blue box were forced to grab hold to the TARDIS's interior in an attempt to keep upright as the time winds ravaged her exterior. If they weren't careful, they'd be black and blue before reaching their destination, although if Rose was honest with herself, it wouldn't be the first time.

The Doctor, grinning maniacally, positively beamed at his companion as she struggled to remain afoot. Although things were currently crazy and chaotic, and the Doctor was doing all he could to avoid the subject, she wasn't going to take no for an answer. Continuing the conversation they had been discussing shortly before taking off, Rose shouted above the TARDIS's whooshing groan. "Oh please! I promised Shireen that I'd be home for a visit soon an' we'd both go shopping together! I need some new clothes, Doctor. You can't keep me from shoppin' forever!"

Rose let go of her most current spot of safety to chase the doctor around the deck, failing as she was thrown about the deck in the process. It really was both dangerous and exciting to try and move around the TARDIS while in flight...well, not so much as in flight but as in... _movement_ of time and space... In truth, the TARDIS didn't actually "fly" very well at all, as Rose'd seen first-hand when she'd gotten picked up by a herd of Enantiornithines when the Doctor had taken her to see the Cretaceous period. He'd been too busy showing off his knowledge of pre-historic plant life to notice that she'd been mistaken for food and as she had risen into the air screaming, he'd sprung into action. piloting the TARDIS in a way that she wasn't meant to be driven - with her doors open and everything - in order to save Rose. Less than pleased by the entire ordeal, Rose had been about to give him a piece of her mind about what constitutes a "safe" place to visit, when she had noticed the damage done to the TARDIS's flight controls. The poor girl was smoking and steaming, letting harsh groans out of the base of the heart of her - she had almost been torn completely apart in the Doctor's attempt to save Rose. It broke Rose's heart seeing what he had almost given up, and what the TARDIS had almost lost, and since then, Rose had felt more forgiving of the TARDIS's bumpy _movement _as she travelled through time and space.

But even so, the journey to and fro banged and bruised her up more than she liked to admit. Still, it was an exhilarating ride to jumble about trying not to cause serious injury from one place to another.

The Doctor was too busy pushing this and pulling that to pay her any attention as she tried to make her way to him, spinning the blue wheel before pumping the brown spiny thing. Figuring out that he wasn't going to pay her any attention until she forced him to, and like she'd had to do on more than a few occasions with Mickey when a football game was on, or her Mum when she got involved on her cell to a girlfriend, she stood in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest in an overly practiced movement, blocking his path and further movements on the control panel. He grimaced, knowing he wasn't going to escape without a fight, his grin falling downwards as his lips pursed into a pout.

He knew her too well in times like this - she could see it all over his face. This wasn't the first time she'd had to put her foot down and go to physical extremes to get him to focus on her and what she was saying for a few minutes - the man literally couldn't keep still. Of course she'd had to go to extremes on more than one occasion to get him to look at her and listen - he literally went a million miles a minute! He wasn't going to get out of this conversation, though, and he knew it, and he knew that she knew that he knew it.

Frowning in displeasure at being forced to stop, even for a moment, he whined, his arms gesturing madly, "But Rose! I thought we were going to go to Nuwavia to see the Wind Almsgivers make their way to the Crystal Beach!"

"Well, we still can! But first, I need some clothes! After our last few trips - don't even make me remind you - it's amazing I've got anything left to wear at all!"

"There's always the TARDIS wardrobe - plenty to choose from in there!"

Rose sputtered, "Yeah - for you, maybe!"

"What do you mean? There are women's clothes in there."

"Costumes, more like!"

It was the Doctor's turn to sputter. "But, I found my clothes in there!"

Rose laughed. "And?"

"What do you mean, and?"

"And... you wear a costume."

"A costume?" He cried indignantly, his mouth dropping open as he took a step back from her, clearly insulted.

Realizing quickly that she'd allowed her foot to quickly make it's way into her mouth, she tried to make the last comment not seem as... offending. Besides, an upset Doctor wouldn't be a very giving Doctor, especially considering that she was currently trying to butter him up to take her home.

"A very nice one, at least. Very...fitting."

"My suit is not a costume, Rose," he told her seriously. "It's a very practical outfit. Extremely durable, it is! Pants, shirt, jacket, tie," he said, pointing to each item as he named it, pulling at each piece in emphasis to his point, "... everything a bloke would ever need."

"A bloke doesn't always need to wear a suit jacket and tie." Rose argued, her hands grabbing at the center control grating as the TARDIS made a harsh left jerk.

The Doctor looked appalled. "But, I have bad circulation! I have to keep warm."

Rose couldn't have kept herself from laughing if she'd tried. "Bad circulation, Doctor! How can you possibly have bad circulation? You've got two hearts!"

He looked at her pitifully, as if she was nothing more than a small child - patiently and slightly condescending. "Yes, which means more blood that has to circulate, Rose." He was infuriating, and also quite amusing, much to her dismay. Rose decided the only thing left to do in a situation like this was to take a deep breath and steer him back to the topic at hand. Which involved getting him to take her home!

"It's not bad circulation, _Doctor_. It's that you have no meat on your bones." She couldn't resist one last attempt at taking the mickey out of him.

"Oi! You've never complained about my figure before!" The Doctor turned towards the side, trying to get a better look at his backside, causing Rose to laugh out loud. Could the man be any more vain? Honestly.

"Oi! You've never refused to take me shopping before!"

He looked at her seriously, as he straightened up to full height and stepped up to her, letting his hands gently drop on the top of her shoulders. "Admit that it's not a costume."

"Fine. It's not a costume." Rose agreed, smiling. "But you are still going to take me home so I can go buy some new things to wear."

"I have found some lovely scarves in the wardrobe in my time." She'd lost him again as he turned away from her, jiggling that and switching on this. The TARDIS jumped suddenly, forcing Rose forward. Almost hitting the control panel with her forehead, she righted herself, still arguing. "I don't need a scarf, though! Trust me, I've gone through the wardrobe! There is nothing I can seriously consider wearing on a day-to-day basis. I need jeans and shoes and...other things." Rose trailed off, thinking it best not to inform him of her need for new underclothes.

The Doctor struggled not to grin. Quirking an eyebrow, Rose folded her arms across her chest. His smile faded a bit. Smart man.

Stepping closer, Rose pleaded one last time with him.

"Please, Doctor?" she begged softly, reaching towards him to lay a hand upon his arm. She watched as he suddenly focused on her instead of the console, his eyes following the movement of her hand, and couldn't help the smile that slid across her face as she saw him soften at her touch.

"Oh, alright." Finally giving in, he groaned - rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "Alright, alright... But only for a day. I'm not hanging around for much longer than that. Got things to do - places to see!" Rose was ecstatic. Reaching to hug him, he side-stepped her, grinning a little evilly.

"Besides, I don't think I can take much more of your mother for more than that in one go."

Rose reached over to smack him, as he hollered and jumped away. Rubbing his shoulder pitifully, she shook her head, bemused by his antics. He smirked at her, and went off in plan mode.

"I'll drop you off, take a short trip to New New Earth..."

"New New New New..." Rose interrupted, laughingly.

He shushed her with his hands as he continued on, ignoring her, "... for a few repairs and a few extra medical supplies, and then we're off to..." The Doctor rolled his tongue around his teeth, making the word stretch just a bit longer than necessary, "Nuwavia!"

Rose clapped her hands together like she did when she was a little girl and the next thing she knew, she was embracing her Mum and Mickey, bringing trinkets out of her bag to give to the both of them, as she attempted to explain what they were and what they could do. Jackie, of course, couldn't be bothered to care about the gifts for she was dragging the Doctor into her arms, pecking his lips with her own rather soundly, while he tried to wrestle out from under her - to no success. Sighing resolvedly, he allowed himself to be dragged onto the couch and allowed Jackie her twenty questions before glaring pointedly at his watch and standing up saying, "Oh look at the time. How time flies when your..."

"Oh shove off, already," Jackie told him, struggling to keep a straight face while Rose giggled.

Gladly, and slightly exaggerating its overdue, the Doctor took his leave, yelling over his shoulder that he'd be in the TARDIS if Rose needed him - he had to gather things and make a few lists before he left.

Jackie sighed at Rose, exasperated. "Don't know how you put up with him, Rose. How do you get him to have a single conversation? The boy couldn't sit still if we tied 'im up, could he?"

Rose could only shrug, still smiling at her Mum. It was the Doctor. It was just how he was.

...

Jackie bustled around the small kitchen, pulling plates and cups out of the cabinets as she brought them to the table just a few steps away.

"...And Beth from work told Rosalie down in Resources that Yvonne and Matt had ended things - can you believe it? I thought they were a match made in heaven, those two...but I guess you really can't always know what's going on at home with people, can you, Rose?"

Rose smiled as she shook her head in agreement. It was always nice to be home for short periods of time, and it always made her feel warm inside to hear her Mum natter on about the gossip at work.

"Matt came into the office the next day, just crying his eyes out! If it weren't so unmanly of him, I would have tried to comfort him myself..." Jackie thought for a moment as she stirred the stew with her wooden spoon, "He does have a nice build for a man his age."

"Mum!" Rose exclaimed.

Jackie winked. "What? I've got eyes, don't I? No harm in looking."

Amused, Rose flipped through the magazine laying in front of her before glancing at the clock. It was amazing how slow time moved when actually stopped to watch it. Turning to her Mum, she asked, "What time's Shireen supposed to show up?"

"She said she'd get here as soon as she got off work. Said she was taking half the day off so the two of you could spend more time together. Of course, I invited her to dinner, but I told her not to wait until then as it'd be quite late by the time the stew'd be finished." She paused, looking at the clock. "Mickey should be getting back before long too. I just sent him out to collect the mail - I forgot to pick it up on my way in. My arms were full carrying the groceries up and that damn dog from 2B got out again..."

Shireen would be here soon then, as it was already afternoon. Rose stood up and walked over to where her Mum was now adding onions to the pot. Feeling a moment of affection for her Mum, she lifted her arms around her Mum's shoulders and laid her head in the nape of her neck.

"I've missed you, Mum." Rose said cheerfully.

"Oh, dear! You're gonna make me tear up, hanging on to me like this! Or maybe it's just the onions..."

Rose laughed.

"You know I've missed you too, sweetheart! I always do when you leave with the Doctor." She sighed. "Taking you off to who knows where...never knowing if you're getting yourselves into trouble or what kinds of things you're gettin' exposed to. I reckon you're mad, the pair of you. It's like you both go looking for trouble."

Rose hugged her a little tighter.

"I'm just happy you've managed to remember your old Mum. I'll need to give that Doctor of yours a thorough talking-to when I see him again. He needs to bring you 'round more often than once every couple of months!"

"Has it really been a few months since we saw you last?"

"Yes it has - almost three!" Jackie looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Sorry, Mum. I didn't realize."

"Damn onions." Jackie wiped her eye. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'm just so glad you're here now!"

"Me too, Mum." Rose squeezed her a little tighter.

_Knock, knock. _

Jackie nodded towards the door. "That'd be Shireen now."

Giving Rose one last peck on the cheek, she turned back to her cooking as Rose skipped towards the front door. Swinging it open, she grinned widely as she pulled her friend into a hug.

Rose held her tightly as she said, "I'm so glad you came by! It's so good to see you!"

Squeezing just as much, Shireen laughed and replied, "Of course I came by! How could I not? You aren't in town every day! How have you been?"

"I've been great! Everything's been jus' wonderful!" Rose grinned, and reached to touch Shireen's long braid, "Oh, your hair looks amazing! I love it dark red like that."

"Thanks! I got a new product in..."

"Oi, Girls! Dinner's gonna be ready around six, which only leaves you a few hours to get your shopping done!" Jackie yelled. "You'd better get going if you plan on making it back in time." Both girls grinned at each other in amusement.

"Yes, Mum." Rose laughed as she grabbed her purse and followed Shireen out of the flat.

"Be safe!" Jackie called after them.

...

Glancing at the crowd around her in embarrassment, laughter bubbled out of Rose as she covered her mouth with the palm of her hand to keep some semblance of privacy to the joke she shared with her friend, Shireen. Hunched over, still grasping her friends arm in sheer delight, she gasped as she tried with little success to control her breathing in order to finish the tale.

Shireen broke out in new peals of laughter, causing Rose to tumble once again into a fit of helpless giggles, her grin now starting to cause a slight ache to her cheeks.

"He came out wearing _what_ exactly?" Shireen wiped the stray tear from her eye.

Rose grinned, "Nothing at all. Not one single thing." Shireen burst out laughing. "Mickey decided that leather made him look "sexy" of all things, and went out and bought the first pair he could find. He came over to try them on this morning, so that we could all 'experience' was the word, his new look.

After about 15 minutes of listening to him grunt and groan, I finally went over to the bathroom to see if he needed help, and he..." Rose could barely finish the sentence she was laughing so hard, "all I heard was this noise. This big bang - sounded like he cracked the tub or somethin' - and poor Mickey is just _moaning_...so of course I tried the handle to see if I could get in...he obviously needed some help!"

"Could you get in?" Shireen asked, rubbing her hands together in delight.

"No! The poor bloke'd locked himself up in there and got himself stuck..." - Shireen let out a shout - "...and couldn't even bring himself and his big male ego to let me know he wasn't okay.

So I'm there, with Mum now - who's just come over to see what's going on - and she just starts screaming at Mickey to come out and tell her what the fuss is all about."

Shireen rolled her eyes. "I can just see Jackie banging on the door yelling at poor Mick."

"She had to finally threaten to break the door down herself and come in if he didn't come out, going round-n-round with him about how we're all family and he's got nothing she's never seen before on someone else, and that he's got nothin' to be ashamed of...! I'm jus' standing there with my arms crossed in complete amusement while poor Mickey's in there stutterin' and trying to get a word in edgeways."

Leaning over, Shireen started to grab some of the bags that had been dropped in their moment of carefree amusement. Rose reached down to stuff one of the scarves that had slipped out of one of the hessian bags back into another. She'd found just the perfect one to show the Doctor, after the great debacle over the TARDIS wardrobe.

Standing up again with a huff from the weight of the lot, she noticed the twinkle of mirth in Shireen's eye as she continued, "So Mum finally gets it in her head that the reason he won't let us in is 'cause we're not men. She start's asking Mickey if he'd feel better if another bloke helped him instead of us girls. And Mickey - he's just yellin', 'No Jackie! No! Leave me alone!' I'm laughing my arse off when Mum suddenly turns to me an' says, 'Rose - go get the Doctor!'"

"No! She didn't!"

"Yes, she did! I was enjoying myself so much at this point, decided - fine. I"ll go get him. So I went and grabbed him - thank goodness he hadn't left yet for the... mechanics..." Rose paused, deciding that was as good a word as any to describe where he was going, "... an' dragged him back to where Mum was still goin' off on Mickey to come out. Mickey's pouting in the bathroom refusing to speak to Mum anymore now - and the Doctor..." Rose broke out in giggles again. "The Doctor kneels down, peeks in the little keyhole and starts to try and _negotiate_ with him! Can you imagine?"

Shireen shook her head in disbelief.

"He takes out that screwdriver of his and says, "Mickey, I've gotta be honest with ya. This isn't exactly how I planned to be spending my day..." and Mickey starts yellin' at the Doctor to leave 'im alone and to not come in! Has to be one of the funniest things I've ever seen!

The Doctor then covers his eyes with one hand..." - Rose covered her own to show Shireen - "...and yells, 'Brace yourselves, Ladies' as he swung the bathroom door open and went in.

Mickey went into a strop, slamming the door after the Doctor stepped in. Me and Mum tried to listen to wha' was happenin' but we couldn't hear much through the door. All we could hear was Mickey shrieking like a little girl - oh, I did hear the Doctor say, 'Don't be such a little girl!' and Mickey said something like, 'Do I _look _like a girl to you?' and the Doctor says all matter of factly, "I am a Doctor - you haven't got anything I've not seen before!" and Mickey yells, "Oi! I am _not_ a _girl_!" and then the Doctor comes out, amused and _smirking_ of all things. We asked him what was happening and all he did was laugh over his shoulder as he walked back to 'is room!

Finally, after another 10 minutes or so, Mickey yells out, "Doctor? You gonna bring me those clothes?"

Shireen gasped, "Did he come back?"

"No! He'd left." Rose replied.

"So Mickey finally manned up and yelled at us to go away 'cause he was just gonna come out."

Chuckling, Shireen beckoned Rose to continue walking down the sidewalk, as they originally had been headed to Jackie's flat before getting side-tracked with girlish hilarity.

Rose sighed with a grin as she remembered the look on her Mum's face, "Without giving me an' Mum any time at all to leave, he jus' comes stormin' out - completely starkers mind you - and just stands there! I couldn't believe it! Mum about lost it trying to scream and cover her face up! And Mickey just stood there in shock, red-faced as we fumbled around like idiots trying to not fall down as we..."

"He just stood there?" Shireen gasped.

"Yea! He stayed there, completely frozen until Mum finally told him to get on with it and stop standing around starkers!" Rose chuckled. "She yelled, this flat isn't a nudist colony!

He came out about 10 minutes later, and we, of course, were still just standing there where he left us, our eyes covered and mouths still hanging open - and he just walks in like nothing happened, all smug-like, and asks Mum what's for lunch!"

Shireen could hardly sputter, "Your Mum!"

Rose about fell over laughing again, "Poor Mum! She didn't know which way the wind was blowing! She just uncovered her eyes and squeaked, 'Shepherds Pie?'"

Shireen guffawed.

"And Mum just went to the kitchen and started pourin' tea." Rose finished with a smile.

"So what happened to the leather pants?"

"Oh those?...Well, they went in the bottom drawer of my dresser to be kept until the perfect moment to blackmail..."

"You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?"

Shireen grinned manically. "Oh, I miss you when you're gone!"

Rose smiled. "I miss you, too!"

"Of course, I'm entirely jealous that you've found a rich bachelor that can sweep you off your feet and head off for months at a time."

Rose laughed. "It does have its perks, doesn't it?" She winked cheekily.

"I wish I could find me one." Shireen said wistfully. "Maybe one with a normal name..."

"Oi!" Rose laughed. "I like what he goes by. It's... unique."

"It's definitely different." Shireen smirked.

"Maybe different is good." Rose replied. "Sometimes, yeah... it's... good."

"I know that look, Rose Tyler!" Shireen exclaimed. "Has something happened between you two?"

Rose shook her head. "No, not like that."

"But you wish it would?"

"Yeah... No..." Rose trailed off wistfully. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Maybe's not a no..." Shireen told her helpfully.

Agreeing more to herself rather than to Shireen, Rose replied quietly, "Yeah. Maybe..."

Hugging Shireen goodbye took a good 20 minutes before they split up to go their separate directions. Enjoying the cool breeze as she lifted her face up to the sky, and was reminded of another something blue that always made her swell with joy. Head tilted, she wondered if the Doctor had made it back yet. Smiling to herself, she all but skipped home. Well, as capably as could be expected with the amount of purchases she'd made.

"Mum! I need help! Open up the door!" Rose huffed as she lugged her way up the stairs to her Mum's flat, the weight of her shopping bags finally starting to cramp her shoulders, and fumbled around to find her key whilst trying not to drop anything.

"Mum? You there?" Rose pounded on the door with her fist. Hearing nothing from inside, she worked the key into the doorknob and turned it, opening the door and stepping inside.

There was a note propped up against the mirror on the hall table.

_Rose, _

_I forgot to get a few things that I need to finish dinner. Can't believe I forgot them the first time! Like I haven't got better things to do with my time then go back and forth to the grocery store. Mickey wanted to come, so he's with me. I shouldn't be gone more than a few minutes. _

_Love you,_

_Mum_

Rose wondered when she'd left. She was running a good half an hour behind as it was. Shrugging out of her jacket, Rose draped it over the chair as she made her way into the kitchen. Gasping, she rushed over to the stove and to turn off the heat. The stew was boiling over, and smoke was beginning to spread thickly around the kitchen. Rose quickly pushed it to the back burner to try and prevent further burning.

Coughing slightly, Rose rushed over to the sink and opened the window, waving her hands a bit to try and usher the smoke outside. How could her Mum have left it on like this? Didn't she know that she was just asking for a disaster? She could've burned the house down!

Before Rose could really start fuming at her Mum's idiocy - and Mickey's for that matter for letting her do something so ridiculous - there was a knock at the door.

Marching over to the door, fully expecting it to be her Mum and Mickey with their arms full, she flung the door open, ready to give them both a good talking to.

Two officers stood there, a heavy-set man and a much shorter woman, looking uncomfortable and slightly nervous. Rose's anger dissipated immediately.

"Yes?" Rose asked. "Can I help you?"

"Miss Tyler? Are you Rose Tyler?" The officer asked, his voice gruff.

"Yes?" Rose said in trepidation. The last officers that had come into this apartment hadn't been exactly human, and Rose had experienced enough not to take anyone at face value.

"May we come in, Miss Tyler?"

Considering that for a moment, Rose reluctantly agreed. Rather than replying, she simply held the door open, allowing them access in. Her stomach fluttered nervously, and her heart started thumping loudly, so loudly in fact that she couldn't hear much else other than the pounding in her ears.

The female officer turned down her radio, which had been blaring between cracks and noise, and pulled a notebook and pen from her belt. She had a dark complexion and some of the most striking eyes Rose had ever seen. Rose took them to the kitchen.

Ushering them towards the table, Rose felt it only polite to offer them a seat. "Would you please sit?" She asked, feeling that if they would at least sit, she'd have more of a chance at escaping if they started acting...strangely.

"Yeah, thanks," the man replied, still looking out of sorts and nervous. It made Rose feel uncomfortable. Trying to come up with something to do, to make herself feel more in control and at ease with the situation, she turned towards them and asked, "Would either of you like a cup of tea?"

"Uh...no. Thank you. That's not necessary." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notepad. "If you'd join us, Miss Tyler." He pulled out the chair to his left and patted the back of it twice.

She really didn't want to. He had a strange expression on his face and Rose flinched slightly, but she pulled the chair out of his grasp and sat primely down. Whatever these two officers had to say, Rose wanted to be prepared. The Doctor hadn't made it back yet and she wasn't sure she wanted to have a sit-down with either of them by herself. She couldn't imagine why they were here or what they wanted. She only hoped that it was something...earthly. Shopping with Shireen had worn her out, and she was starving, and she didn't want to have to battle aliens on an empty stomach, if thats what they were going to turn out to be.

Remembering her Mum and Mickey - well, their lack of presence - Rose said aloud, "My Mum's not here..." Rose's voice faltered as she watched the man suck in a breath and watched the woman's shoulders sink. Neither seemed overly inclined to answer her, giving her further cause for concern.

Leaning forward now, giving them her undivided attention, she tried again. "Who are you? What do you want? Why are you..."

The man interrupted her, holding up a hand. "Miss Tyler, is there anyone else here with you? Someone close we can call? Is there someone we can contact for..."

"Why?" Rose questioned, her heartbeat fluttering madly in her chest.

"We have some news to..."

"What kind of news?" Rose asked, quickly.

Suddenly, a sound that normally brought such enthusiasm to her step, such joy to her soul - the TARDIS was coming back, and with it - her Doctor. Rose couldn't take her eyes off the man that was sitting across from her. She wanted to keep an eye on both of them until her Doctor was here. He'd make everything alright - he'd figure out what was happening.

"What's going on?" The woman exclaimed, jumping up. "What is that?"

The man's hand hovered over his weapon as he slowly made his way to where the noise was coming from.

"Wait!" cried Rose, arms outstretched as if to stop them, desperately trying to think of an excuse for the TARDIS engines. "Just a minute... it's just the... washing machine. It makes that sound when the load is about to finish."

The officer's looked at Rose in disbelief before quickly glancing at one another.

"Never heard a washing machine quite like that before..." The woman stated.

The other officer grinned sheepishly. "My wife and I had an old one several years back - didn't make a noise quite like that, but it probably could have competed well enough."

The woman chuckled and made her way back to her seat.

Rose felt relieved.

Mum had made extra space in Rose's room for the TARDIS to land, so that the Doctor didn't have to park her four miles away, and most definitely not in the middle of the sitting room. That had drove Mum nuts when the TARDIS had landed smack in the middle of the living room the last time. The Doctor had stayed often enough with Rose and her Mum now that he had pretty much claimed Rose's room as his own, forcing Mickey to take over the couch when the Doctor came to stay. Grumble as he might, Rose didn't think it ever really bothered him much. So long as he knew Rose was safe and was staying for a good visit - and as long as Rose stayed in the same bed as her Mum, and not in the same bed as the Doctor.

Rose's bedroom door opened, and the Doctor emerged, attired in his usual tight blue suit and red Converse trainers. His hands were occupied, working diligently on his sonic screwdriver, fumbling with the gears, and burbling on about something getting stuck as he walked over to where Rose and the officers were sitting.

"Hi Rose!" He announced happily, completely absorbed in the screwdriver. "Now then! Good as gold!" Giving a peck to the sonic screwdriver and patting it down into his pocket, he finally looked up. "You'll never guess what I ran into..." He trailed off, finally noticing not only Rose, but that there were two strange people in the kitchen.

"Oh, hello! Rose, you have guests!" The Doctor sidled up to the male officer. "I'm the Doctor. And who might you be?" He stuck out his hand, and blinked before sticking out his other hand to the female officer, shaking hands with both officers simultaneously.

The woman looked concerned. "We didn't know anyone else was here. We did ask."

No one really gave her an answer. Rose felt a little uneasy, her stomach tying in knots as she waited for the Doctor to make some sense out of the situation. They had said they had bad news. Her mind felt numb, and she felt an oncoming terror - something she couldn't quite place yet, but she felt scared of what the near future held for her. And being scared completely terrified her. Nevertheless, she tried to remind herself not to get worked up and worried until she knew what kind of situation she was in.

Shaking the Doctor's hand, the man replied, his voice deep and tired, lacking almost all inflection and emotion. "My name is Edward Patel, and this is my partner, Officer Julie Barge. If we could all sit down for a moment?"

Becoming aware that there was some kind of situation, The Doctor looked at Rose for the first time - peering at her with a concerned expression. She hadn't moved from that spot since he entered the room. Her cheeks were very pale, as if she had lost all of her color and warmth. Her hands were clinging to the table in front of her, and he could tell she was trembling. It was barely visible, but he recognized it. Walking around the two officers, he firmly grasped Rose by the shoulders, giving her a small squeeze with his hands before sitting down next to her in one of the kitchen table chairs.

Scooting his chair next to her, closer, and putting an arm gently around her shoulders, he directed his attention at the officers.

"What's happened then?" He asked them resignedly, his free hand finding her tightly clasped ones. Rose quickly looked over at him. He didn't seem concerned that they might be aliens at all.

Frowning, she wasn't sure she wanted to sit here any longer. If anything - after all, she reasoned, they didn't know why the officers were here to begin with. Could be a simple complain from a neighbor... Maybe Mum had kicked that poor dog in 2B one too many times.

Officer Julie Barge fumbled with her notebook. Rose still hadn't been able to look away from the Doctor yet, and he had yet to meet her eyes. His attention was currently focused on the officers, waiting patiently, although Rose did take in the slight nervous tick he had in the thumb of his right hand.

His slight tick made her more nervous than she liked, and already she was forcing herself to sit still instead of bolting like she really wanted to.

Taking her eyes off of the Doctor, and still up to looking at either officer, Rose glanced at the wall. Squinting, Rose noticed a line near the ceiling that hadn't captured her attention before. The spot looked like something had scratched against it - no, make that pushed against - there was a bit of an indention to it's shape. Staring hard enough, she couldn't imagine what had dented the wall. It was so high up - Mum'd never be able to reach up there.

Berating herself for not paying attention to what they were saying, Rose knew bad news was coming and it was all she could do to not focus on something completely ridiculous and tiny.

The Doctor had leaned back into his chair, shoulders slumped as he watched her, worriedly.

"I'm sorry," she interrupted. "Could you please say that again?"

Officer Patel sighed and refused to meet her eyes. "I'm very sorry to inform you that both Jackie Tyler and Mickey Smith were in an accident today."

Rose's eyes widened and she felt a chill come over her, but she said nothing further.

"It is obvious that they were making their way back home, when a young woman ran out in front of their car. Mrs. Tyler swerved to miss the girl, and unfortunately, in doing so, caused the car to run off the road into the postal building, just a few blocks over.

The Doctor had now grasped Rose's hand as she tried to comprehend the information. She couldn't even begin to process it. She saw, more than felt the Doctor's tight hold. She felt shaken. Her eyes wandered back to the thin black line on the wall. She still couldn't think of what had caused such a trauma.

"I'm sorry, but they were both killed instantly around 5 p.m. this afternoon."

The officers stood up, their chairs scraping against the tile, as did the Doctor after very gently rubbing her neck and gently tucking a stray hair behind her ear. She knew they were talking quietly but she couldn't seem to do anything more than stare blankly at the wall. Blinking slowly, her head tilted to the left as that strange spot on the wall found her attention once again. Surprisingly, there were several dings and scrapes on the wall. Something that Mum never noticed, probably, or she would have gotten it fixed long ago.

"Please tell her that she can reach us anytime at this number," Officer Patel handed a card to the Doctor, "and she will need to come in to get her familial belongings from the station."

"Alright, thanks. I'll make sure she knows."

"Oh, and here's the number for the coroners. She'll need to contact them in the next few days to make arrangements for the funeral. Also, we are going to need some contact information for Mr. Smith. We're having a difficult time getting in touch with his family."

"Thank you, officer. We'll be in touch."

Rose cringed inwardly. The funeral. Funerals. Oh my God, how could she even think about funerals? It was all too much right now. Too fast and too heavy - Rose's chest felt tight, constricted.

Her mum. And Mickey. Oh, God.

No, Rose, she told herself. Don't think about it. Don't think too much on that quite yet. Too much. Focus, Rose. Yes, back to the spot on the wall. If she squinted hard enough, the black line almost resembled a tree.

"Rose?" The Doctor was kneeling gently beside her. "Rose, can you please look at me?"

Shaking her head, slowly, she knew she couldn't. She couldn't even breathe. Inhaling, exhaling - it was beyond her and she felt stiff and scared and - alone.

Rose couldn't help but wonder if this is what the Doctor felt like on a daily basis. Was this what it was like to be him, every day? She'd always wondered, always stared a little too closely at him to see if she could see it - to feel it from him - the waves of grief he must feel, the raw power of so much knowledge, so much horror that she knew he'd seen. Hell, that he'd even caused. She'd stared so deeply at him and for so long and had never gotten the tinniest of clues as to what he was thinking or feeling. To know where he'd come from and how he really thought about things - he kept it all so deep, hidden, and she'd only barely skimmed the surface in trying to understand the depths of the Doctor. How she's stared when she thought him not looking - how she'd noticed every line and crease on his face, every frown, trying to get an idea of the turmoil she knew he must feel at times, but he never gave anything away. She'd never asked him about it, either, to tell her what it was like for him to have gone through the many horrible things she knew he had. It wasn't as if he wouldn't answer her if she had - it was just something she knew wasn't her place - wasn't her right - to ever bring up to him. His past, his history - she had so desperately wanted to know him, to know all about him. To experience his pain, to get him to open up to her, to maybe even be able to help him. But he kept it so close to his chest, so locked up, she knew that he'd never willingly bring his past up to her - to anybody. The time had never been right, the situation had never been acceptable before.

But now - things were wrong. Oh so wrong, and so terrible. It was times and situations like this that brought out those horrible pasts in people. Made them easy to talk about, easier to share, and able to sympathize with others.

It was ironic how much time she'd spend staring at him to try and figure him out, when right now, she couldn't bring herself to so much as look in his direction. If she looked at him now... when she looked at him... she would see the sorrow there; concern, and sympathy. That tragic understanding of someone who really does understand.

After all the time she searched for it in him and come back emtpy, she knew it would be all over him this time - everywhere, pouring out for her to acknowledge and access. And that was too much - it would make it too real. And she wasn't ready for it. She wasn't ready at all. She couldn't to even look at him, to see what she knew she couldn't take.

It made her feel guilty, knowing how hard she'd looked to find this pain in him before. It was cruel - hadn't she realized it? Why would anyone want to know about anyone feeling this way? There was no mature realizations of knowing someone through this. This pain - it was just raw and thick, and sudden. It didn't define a person, she saw that now. It was just a thing that happened to someone, and it hurt and was awful.

She thought that by understanding his pain, she would know him better - be closer to him somehow - be someone he confided in. Now she knew better. Pain doesn't allow you to understand someone better, it only allows you to understand pain better. Guilt overwhelmed her and she thought she might just be sick right there in the kitchen.

Attempting to take a deep breath was beginning to seem impossible to Rose. Struggling, she tried again to no avail. She trembled, and yet still felt constricted - it was is if she couldn't move, couldn't even turn her head an inch, or she'd physically snap. Break into a thousand pieces, she would, and it was terrifying. Rose couldn't even force herself to blink. Staring wide-eyed at the wall, her vision blurred and yet, she couldn't close her eyes.

As if sensing that she wasn't herself, that she was having trouble and wasn't up to answering questions or facing reality of any kind yet, and most certainly not up to looking at him, the Doctor slid one hand under her arms and locked one arm under her legs and lifted her against him as if she weighed nothing at all. Quickly striding out of the kitchen, into the guest bedroom - into the TARDIS, she was sure that's where they were going - her gaze remained on that small dent on the kitchen wall, until she could no longer see it.

And then, with all the effort in the world, she shut her eyes, refusing to open them or acknowledge the truth of what just happened. If she didn't see, if she didn't comprehend, she wouldn't feel. She wouldn't hurt. There wouldn't be any pain.

And as she desperately clung to oblivion, the sorrow she knew was coming was seeping in the cracks, molding itself around her in a thick, unbreathable, suffocating blanket, where there was no escape.

Listening to the Doctor's steady breathing and the patterned beating of his hearts - her arms unconsciously tightened around his neck. Rose's breathing started coming out in harsh gasps and her eyes flew open for what seemed like the first time. Tucking her forehead against his warm neck, she pushed herself into him, struggling to avoid what was coming - what was taking over.

It hit her like a tidal wave, hurt and horror and the worst kind of loneliness. It knocked the wind out of her and she was falling, helplessly falling, her eyes large and wild, and she clung to the Doctor - grasping tighter, furiously, endlessly grabbing for him. Until she was clinging instead of grasping, her fists digging into his jacket lapels. She couldn't feel him hold her - couldn't feel his hands upon her. She felt out of her mind - perhaps she was mad - she was so lost. Drowning in her own despair and there was nothing that anyone could do to help her. Nothing anyone could do to take away the pain. She was choking - she couldn't breathe.

The Doctor had reeled back from her, dropping her knees to the ground as he made to grab her wrists in an attempt to stop them from pounding at him. Rose hadn't even realized she had attacked him. All she knew was that she couldn't breathe.

Desperately trying to inhale, it was if her lungs wouldn't accept the air - she was breathing in nothing. Suffocating, she lifted her eyes in growing horror, finally daring to look into his deep brown eyes, and the hollow understanding she saw there made the reality finally settle.

She moaned, deep and gutturally, losing her footing - her knees went weak and she was sliding, falling... And then she was being lifted up firmly by the arms, wrapped up in his strong embrace. Her arms hung limply to her sides, palms still facing upward in question as to why. She felt his warm breath on her neck - knew that he was talking to her, but what he was saying couldn't be translated, couldn't be understood. She wondered briefly if he was even speaking English, but as the shock wore off, she couldn't find the energy to care. There was no energy for even existing anymore. Right then, Rose could only be held as he whispered over and over, "I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so, so sorry. I'm here, I'm right here - just take some deep breaths, that's a good girl."

Feeling hot tears against her cheek, she lifted her hand to her face, wondering if she was crying without knowing it, and in doing so, knew that it wasn't her tears she was feeling. Not yet. She couldn't yet.

They were his tears.

The Time Lord was crying for her, when he knew she couldn't. Perhaps because he knew she needed to cry and just wouldn't.

It was overwhelming, and claustrophobic, and so much worse than horrible. Horrible would come later, when things were easier to deal with. Right now, it was just unbearable. Unthinkable. Unimaginable.

Rose really couldn't breathe. What had been coming out as shallow gasps, was now just an endless silence. She felt very much like a fish out of water. Feeling herself being lowered to the grate flooring of the TARDIS deck, the Doctor gently stretched her legs out in front of her - she felt as limp as an old rag doll. He bent her knees slightly and pushed her to lean into her knees, all the while rubbing slow circles along her back. She felt herself being covered by his coat - she was still shivering - it couldn't be helped. Rose tried to feel the cold, but was dismayed when she felt nothing at all.

The Doctor was murmuring absurdities to her - in regards to getting her warm, something about shock, and putting her to sleep. Nothing made sense, and still, no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't manage to pull in a full breath of air.

Was the TARDIS losing it's oxygen levels? What was going on? Everything was getting a bit grey and fuzzy. Lifting her head as best she could, Rose raised her eyes to look at the Doctor once more. He wasn't in focus - in fact, he was rather blurry.

"Doctor?" It wasn't much more than a whisper.

And finally, the sweet bliss of blackness swept over her, and she succumbed to the darkness, letting it take her and comfort her for now, until she could handle the knowledge of what was to come a little better. Until she could look at him and see what his eyes held for her, without feeling the guilt.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so, so sorry," was the last thing she heard as she slipped off to unconsciousness.

...


	2. And silence tortures me,

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything in the Who or Torchwood universe - I only wish I did. Nothing belongs to me, everything belongs to the creators. I just like to play around in the universe. :)

A very special thank you to Liv16 for being the greatest beta I could ever have hoped to meet and work with, who is a constant source of help, suggestion, and inspiration, and without whom I would be lost. Also, many sincere thanks to The Plaid Slytherin, Figure in Black, and TV-a-holic, who helped me to make the most of my first DW fan fiction story.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy. Reviews very welcome!

...

"My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul" - William Shakespeare

...

Her first coherent thought was that it was very warm. A bit too warm for Rose's liking. Hot even, and she was sweaty. She didn't normally tuck herself under this many blankets.

Rose tried to pry her eyes open after blinking thickly a few times to clear her vision from the blur of sleepiness. Her eyelids felt heavy and dry, burning and irritated. Rose lifted a hand to her cheeks and winced as she felt how chapped they were. Rubbing her eyes with her fists after she pulled herself into a sitting position, she struggled with deciding whether to actually get up or not. Her eyes simply did not want to open, and she was positive that it was way too early for anyone human to be awake yet.

Peeling the weighted covers away from her clammy form, Rose squinted towards the room trying to decipher from the amount of light in the room exactly what time the TARDIS felt it was. Rose had never been a particular fan of the TARDIS "clocks", but it was something unique to the ship and Rose didn't feel it deserved an official compliant, simply because it was alien. However, for the fifteenth time, Rose made a mental note to remember to buy a battery powered alarm clock for her room so she could feel more like she had control over her own Earth time, instead of having to depend on the TARDIS for time, which wasn't something given out in numbers that Rose could read, but in the amount of light or dimness in the room at any given moment. It made Rose crazy trying to guess what time it was, and she still couldn't believe that such an advanced time machine told time so inaccurately. Further irritating her was the Doctor, who when asked, was usually so specific she couldn't understand his answer to the simple, "What time is it?" question. He would go into the longest and most detailed explanations about time being relative in the dimensions of time and space, and how her little human mind couldn't even begin to comprehend the meaning of time, much less understand the accuracy in a number given. He would further that with some blahbity blah about Time Lords having such a unique outlook to and of time that humans couldn't possibly apprehend, which was when she usually walked away from him in exasperation at his enormously large ego and his ongoing condescension towards anyone not a Time Lord, still not knowing what time it really was. Which annoyed her because really, in Rose's opinion, what was the good of being a Time Lord if you couldn't give the time?

Still not being able to distinguish the time, only that the lights were more or less dim than bright, she yawned. Stretching languidly with her arms raised toward the ceiling, Rose enjoyed the momentary comfort that it brought to her upper shoulders and back. Bones creaking and muscles pulling, but oh - there was a slight pain before utter contentment - ah...

She heard rather than saw the slight motion to her right, the rustling of a page turning.

It was the Doctor.

Stopping abruptly, she let her hands drop, glancing down quickly to firstly make sure she was completely covered. Not that she went to sleep in the nude, ever, but some of her favorite t-shirts were more like scraps of material, so worn and loved that there wasn't much left of them anymore. Her newer pyjamas consisted of prettier and thinner items, silky and luxurious - things she kept in her top drawer for "special" occasions. Not that she'd had any lately, or even in a long while, but they were there for when the time might occur. Looking down, she sighed in relief as she was still covered in the clothes she'd worn the day before - only minus her shoes. Wait - she was still wearing her clothes from the day before?

The Doctor was bookmarking one of his leather-bound novels and setting it gently to the side as he watched her. What was he even doing in her room? He normally only came to this end of the TARDIS when he was knocking, or rather, banging down her bedroom door trying to hurry her up for that day's activities. He almost never entered her room, even when she'd invited him to. He'd always had something urgent that needed to do or get done, seeming to conjure up any excuse at the last minute to keep him from entering the room she now called her own. She'd never understood why he always felt her room was off-limits - just catalogued it as simply another mystery that was the Doctor.

And yet, here he was in her room, sitting in her chair, gazing deeply at her, his eyes dark and stressed. She could see that he was tired, although his face wasn't telling in trying to figure out what he was thinking. Rose studied him for a long moment.

He looked as if he hadn't slept in ages. Which was strange, she felt, because he rarely needed sleep at all. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure the Doctor ever slept at all - she'd never seen him asleep. Never been to his bedroom, even. Wasn't sure she could even find it had she searched for it. Perhaps the TARDIS kept it hidden from her - she'd never really sought it out before, deciding early on to respect his privacy as he did hers. Sleep or lack of sleep never seemed to affect his enthusiasm before in the mornings, but today, he looked almost unconscious on his feet as he locked eyes with her. Giving him a once over, she was saddened to notice that his eyes - his beautiful big brown eyes - showed all the signs of eyes that had been crying. But why would the Doctor be crying? He'd never looked at her this way before, which was highly unusual considering everything he'd seen and everything he'd been through and experienced. Rose tilted her head to the side, trying to figure out why he looked so sad.

It was like a blinding light - the kind of light that is harsh and cruel and fast and overwhelming. The kind you can't help but put your hands up to cover you face against it. At once, yesterday's memories suddenly forced their way through her mind and into her thoughts, her eyes widening as she realized what exactly she'd woken up to. Her heart sank as her shoulders tensed and her lower lip slowly began to tremble. Her stomach was suddenly in knots which felt excruciatingly uncomfortable and growing more painful with each passing breath. Perilously trying to climb away from the thoughts and memories of yesterday, she felt hysterical that it continued to go round and round in her mind, like that of an endless, tormenting merry-go-round. Finding no ease to her horror and no escape from the torment, she tried to speak - tried to yell, and found herself choking on the tightness in her throat. Pitching helplessly forward onto the bed, hands recklessly pulling at the covers and covering her head while she gasped - she was desperate to get away from it all...

Flashes of images filled her mind, as if to purposely torture her. Her mum laughing, her mum cooking dinner, her mum sitting at the table paying bills, Mickey playing video games on his computer, Mickey eating chips with her and giving her that quirky smile of his that Rose loved so much - like photos of her past being brought to the forefront of her mind like a digital camera, Rose balled her hands over her eyes in attempts to block them out and shut them away.

And in that moment, the Doctor was sitting on the bed with her, pushing the covers aside, and pulling her into his arms before she could cry out.

Silently and slowly, she allowed herself to sink into his embrace, leaning into his chest under the crook of his arm. Her head fell against him as he shifted her closer against him. She felt weak, much like a wilting flower which had been denied water for too long.

Smoothing her head with his hand, he sat quietly with her, letting her wake up good and proper before the bitter day began, offering the comfort of his presence to let her know that she wasn't alone. Rose felt momentarily comforted by his embrace - taking advantage of his warm body pressed up against her, holding her close. Appreciating the warmth he offered, knowing that even though she felt safe with him - taken care of even, and of course comforted at the moment - that as soon as he stood up again, she would be left empty and alone once again. She couldn't decide whether clinging to him now would hurt more or less later on.

All she knew was that she wasn't ready to face that quite yet. Not anything, really, she decided. Funny, how she could decide to not decide anything, but further than that, decided it was too much. The absurdity of it made her feel like laughing, but for now, Rose allowed him to simply hold her, basking in the closeness he was currently offering her, just taking a few moments of quiet non-thought before the day begun. She wanted to talk to him, thank him for staying with her - for her - but her throat felt closed and she didn't think she'd be able to make a sound even if she wanted to. She didn't know how to thank someone in this kind of situation, anyway, as everything that crossed her mind felt awkward and would probably make him feel uncomfortable. It was probably for the best that she didn't speak yet, because what would tumble out, exactly, she didn't know. She felt jumbled and confused, and unable to find clarity. So, she melted into the Doctor for a moment, trying to fight off the oncoming slaughter of emotions, memories, and to-do's.

The small pile of novels on the table next to her chair, the crumbs left on the plate on the floor, the screwdriver the Doctor used to work on the gears of his sonic screwdriver - they were all telltale signs that he had stayed with her all night. Which was very unique indeed for the Doctor. He could barely sit still on his own for more than two seconds - Rose knew that probably better than anyone - it was all too banausic for him. Probably painful for him too, if she took the time to really think about it. Perhaps he was constantly in argument with himself too, about whether it was better to cling and lose or to simply keep everyone at a distance - at arms length, so that he never got too close and no one really got hurt. Rose guessed that he had to try and keep himself busy so that he never would have to face the reality of everything that had happened to him. Or, now that she knew escaping those kinds of thoughts was an actual impossibility, the attempt alone is what kept him able to continue.

He was always jumping around, hopping from one place to another, his hand gestures moving a million miles a minute, to try and keep up with the ongoing commentary he always seemed to have. The Doctor - always going from one exciting adventure to another - always there for everyone else it seemed. Doing whatever he could to save someone from harm - from the hurt that she knew he felt and hid so well, and that she was just now becoming able to comprehend.

She suddenly understood who he was on a much deeper level, even if she wasn't ready to admit what it meant for her. He obviously had chosen the path of keeping everyone at arms length - trying to prevent others from getting too attached for when he eventually left them back where he'd picked them up, and trying to prevent himself from getting too close that it hurt to leave them in the end. She'd seen it first hand, had felt it - experienced it herself on a day-to-day basis. He'd explained on more than one occasion that even though one could live the rest of their life with him, that he couldn't reciprocate. He'd told that to her, directly, once, and the sting of it still made her heart ache.

For the Doctor to stay with her, to be silent with her - for her - holding her so close to him, letting her feel his double heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest - it testified to how deeply he understood her pain. There was nothing that could be done, nothing that anyone could say that would make it better. But he was there - a constant reminder to her that she wasn't alone - letting her take things at her own pace, letting one thing slide into place in her mind at a time, and she was desperately thankful for that. No one else in her 19 years had ever understood her quite like the Doctor did, and if she thought on it long enough, she'd reckon that no one ever would again. Because now, like him, she felt all alone in this world.

He was so quiet, and she couldn't speak. Her mind was screaming in agony and she held onto her stone facade as it was the only thing keeping her sane and outwardly held together at the moment.

"Rose," the Doctor finally spoke, the small hairs of the top of her head tickling his mouth as he spoke. "Rose, let's get you out of bed and into the shower, why don't we?"

She didn't move. But he didn't seem particularly bothered by her lack of reaction.

"We'll get you sorted out for today." He said softly, pulling away from her as he climbed off of the bed, it groaning a bit as his weight shifted. Standing up, he leaned over and grasped the sides of her arms, pulling her up to him and carefully led her towards the bathroom, overly gently as if he was afraid she would run away from him at first chance. She didn't feel that she had the energy to even think about crawling back into bed. She tripped over a sock but didn't fall. He had her in his arms and was evidently stronger than he looked, because he didn't so much as blink as he hauled her back upward.

"We'll just take things one at a time, Rose. One little step at a time."

She dared a quick glance at him. Their eyes met briefly before he gave her a short, tight squeeze.

"That's right, let's get you up out of bed and into a shower. We'll clean you up and I'll make some tea and we'll eat some toast and..." The Doctor rambled now, just listing things - normal everyday human things he was sure Rose would appreciate - of what was going to happen for the day, obviously trying to give her some semblance to her normal routine. Rose felt too lost, too desolate to even think for herself at the moment, and she let him drag her into the bathroom.

Sitting her on the closed toilet seat he turned towards the shower, turning it on, "Here we go - warm water, Rose! Ow! That's hot! Too hot!" He adjusted the tabs slightly. "A warm shower first thing in the morning always helps me wake up." He gave her a quick glance. "I know you prefer an evening bath, Rose, but this'll be good for today. It'll be fine."

He turned towards her once again, rubbing his hands together in concentration. "You'll need a towel and a washcloth, of course..." He started opening cabinets and pulling out this and that, talking to her all the while. "Some soap - do you have any in there already?" He peeked in the shower quickly, "Yes to soap. What about shampoo..."

Rose gazed at the tile floor. Was it tile? It looked a bit like tile, although nothing like any of the tile she'd ever seen before. She'd never really noticed or thought about it before. It was blue and green - both colors at once, seeming to swirl together under her feet. The tile was translucent, though, almost as if she could see through it if she concentrated enough. Was there something underneath the colors? Maybe if she squinted...

"Here we are now, Rose! All set. Everything you need - all right here. Oh, and here's a towel - I'll just set it here, shall I?" The Doctor shifted, looking slightly out of sorts, as he set the towel on the edge of the sink. Rose watched him, noticing how he'd gone from confident and purposeful to slightly awkward and more than a little uncomfortable. She wondered how he could switch back and forth so quickly. One minute he was a man taking care of her, sure and self-confident, and the next, a school-boy, nervous and unsure.

He stuck a hand in his pocket and twiddled his foot as he scratched the back of his neck with his other hand.

"Umm...I'll just wait outside while you have a wash, shall I? I'll start some tea - what kind sounds good to you, hmm? And I'll pop some toast into the toaster - Oh, I did fix it the other day... Shouldn't burn those edges like it used to anymore. Nope! No more burned toast. You are lucky I'm so clever." He grinned to himself, suddenly decisive and assured once again. The hands came out of the pockets once again as he all but hopped to the door.

"Would you like white or brown? Or perhaps some of the tulip-seed bread we got from that market we went to on Orian?" He glanced at her, obviously seeing if she would answer, and when she couldn't even meet his eye, he frowned slightly, worried. She blinked and focused back on her toes. She scratched one over the tile, noticing how smooth it felt. Perhaps the tile was see-through, and she was looking at the TARDIS's pool. She'd always been told there was one, but she'd never seen it.

Contemplating her for a long moment, the Doctor slapped his hands together - now a man of action - and said, "Right. So you just climb in and I'll be right outside. Okay, Rose?"

He seemed to be waiting for an answer. He waited, and she raised her toe to her other foot, scratching at an imaginary itch. "Rose?" He asked again.

He regarded her seriously for a moment before dropping to his knees in front of her. "Rose?" He asked softly, gently, his voice low and deep.

She couldn't... She turned her head away from him - he was too close, it was becoming too much... She could almost feel him breathing and her own gasps of air sped up unexpectedly. She felt tears well up in her eyes and she looked up - away from him - to try to keep them from falling down her cheeks. Yesterday was finally becoming today.

Squaring his shoulders, he was suddenly calm and commanding once more. Gently standing up in front of her, he directed her. "Let's get you in the bathtub before the TARDIS loses the hot water and I have to stick you into a cold shower! No one likes to wake up to that!"

Caressing her cheek with the back of his hand for a second, he pulled her up into a standing position, away from the closed toilet. Apologies were written all over his face, but she didn't care to figure out why. She felt his fingers brush her waist, gently timid and yet assertive. Her eyes lowered to follow the movements of his fingers as he started gently tugging her jumper over her head.

Quickly realizing what he wanted - what he was doing - Rose raised her arms a bit to help. She felt disgusting as it was, and felt glad to be getting rid of anything that reminded her of yesterday.

Also, she couldn't believe she was still fully clothed - she never slept in her day wear. If she'd known how gross she would feel come morning, she'd have insisted on changing into something to sleep in. But then again, she hadn't planned on succumbing to sleep quite like she had the night before.

Well, at least he had removed her shoes. That was something. She didn't want to think about the ache her ankles might have felt had he neglected to remove them for her.

Rose watched his face carefully as he pulled one arm out of a sleeve for her, noticing that he didn't once flinch or stare - he had the same expression he always had when he looked at her. He could have been working on the TARDIS control with the same expression he was now looking at her with. Pulling the shirt over her head, Rose felt the cold air hit her and she started shaking slightly, imperceptibly. Small goosebumps prickled her bare flesh, and she had a trembling shiver as she stood there in only her bra and jeans. Her arms wrapped around her stomach in attempts to obtain some warmth. He noticed this, and quickly rubbed her arms and shoulders, trying to warm her up by creating some friction.

She didn't think it helped much. His hands felt just as cold as the air, and it only seemed to make her shake all the more. Noticing this, he moved towards her belt.

"Alright then...There goes the shirt. Now the jeans." He explained every action before moving to each article of clothing, his hands gentle and efficient, precise and detached. Practically clinical, even. Rose wondered if he'd had to do this before, with someone else. Another subject that hurt to think about too much. She needed to stay on simple topics.

His fingers had moved to the front of her waist, his fingers lithe and warm as he deftly unbuttoned her jeans and reached down to unzip them.

The Doctor was being so kind, so gentle and so warm...and was now tugging downwards at her jeans? Wait.

Her mind swirling in confusion as she waded through the fog to clear her thoughts. She could undress herself! What was she doing? Why was he undressing her? What was she letting him do?

"Doctor!" Her voice broke, but at least she was heard as she still wasn't properly awake yet. The Doctor's hands immediately dropped from Rose's waist as if he'd been burned, and he warily stepped a few feet away from her.

"Stop, please. I can do it. I don't need your help." She rushed out.

He didn't move, although she was quite sure he'd heard her due to the look of wary uncertainty that slid across his face before it was gone the next. She knew he would never hurt her or take advantage of her - of course she knew that. But for him to undress her and for her to let him - it would take them across that imaginary line they'd set in place the moment they first met, no matter how innocent the situation was.

The imaginary line that separated friendship from something more. It was that line that Rose needed distinguishing now more than ever, because it was the only thing she could depend on, completely. To know that he would never, ever put her in a position where he could take advantage, not that he would, but that the trust was there that he wouldn't, was of such great importance to Rose right now.

She repeated more quietly, trying to explain herself to him so he wouldn't feel hurt or that he was taking advantage - because she knew he wasn't, and she needed him to understand that she knew he wasn't.

"I can do it." She crossed her arms across her chest in attempts to cover herself.

His dark and gentle eyes found hers for a split second before he turned and quietly walked out of the bathroom, saying, "If you need me, just call. I'll just be in the kitchen." He glanced back at her one last time, seeking reassurance of some sort from her that she was at least in her right mind and could take it from there...

Rose nodded to him, not daring to talk anymore than was necessary. Words took thought, and she couldn't...

He nodded again, slightly to himself this time as if trying to convince himself that she really could manage on her own, and lightly closed the door behind him.

She stared at the closed door for a long moment, listening to him clink and clank around the kitchen, probably making a total mess of the TARDIS kitchen. The normalcy of those sounds encouraged her to finish removing her clothing and to get into the steaming shower. Rose wanted to get in and out before he got it in his head that he should come in again after her. As if him seeing her without a shirt hadn't been embarrassing enough...

Rose's breath hitched as the water hit her for the first time - it was warmer than she usually had it but she didn't mind. It was warm and on the verge of very hot - the kind of warmth that you could feel deep within your bones. She was slowly thawing out, layer after layer. Holding her hands under the spray for a long while, she just stood there letting, and allowing the water to relax her, the sharp jets dissipating as they hit her hands and the softer water washing over her - her face, her shoulders - all the way to her toes. She didn't even realize how tense she really was until she moved to stand under the hot spray. Water coursed down her back - it gave Rose something to focus on, the tiny water drops and their individual paths to the drain.

Grabbing the shampoo and then the soap, she carefully washed her body and rinsed off, and then just stood there, under the water - turning it a tad warmer as it had started to turn cool on her. Rose breathed in deeply as she let her head fall forward, her chin resting on her chest. Her first deep breath and it was shakily exhaled. Putting her hands in front of her on the shower wall, she steadied herself.

It was with her second deep breath that it finally met her head-on. She felt sluggish and dizzy and most definitely wobbly, all at the same time. Stumbling backwards, she slipped on the slick floor and unsuccessfully tried to lean forward to break her fall.

"Oh!" She cried out as she landed on her lower back and bottom, smacking herself good and hard against the porcelain tub. It smarted and she groaned. That would leave a bruise. Good. She had finally felt something. Her arm started throbbing - she must have hit it on the side of tub on her way down. It was going to leave a mark, too. She didn't care.

Her head had now started to pound as well - she could feel her heart thumping through a vein in her forehead. Checking for blood, Rose lifted her palm to her head and then brought it back down to inspect. No blood - that was something, wasn't it? What had she even hit her head on? The throb in her head made her head ache considerably, and she was completely miserable. Feeling sorry for herself, and pitying the fact that she couldn't even stay upright to take a shower, Rose just let herself sit there in the tub. Lowering her head to her knees and laying both palms against the ache in her head, she just sat there letting the water hit her shoulders and back.

She'd fallen down like this once as a little girl and her Mum'd been right there to pick her up again, giving her a kiss on her bruise and pulling her out into a big towel, rubbing her down gently and smothering her with kisses.

Tears prickled her eyes, as she thought of her Mum. She drew in a sharp breath. It was coming - she could feel it start to take over, feel it dragging her down, feel it inundating her.

There was a noise, then. Ringing and loud, it rushed into her ears, keening and crying - someone was screaming. It was wild and it was awful to hear. She tried to cover her ears against it, unable to stop that noise - the unbearable hurt of it. It was all she could do to wrap her arms around her now trembling body and put her head down into her knees. Wrapping herself up tightly, she couldn't get away from the cries of despair. It lingered forever, seeming to echo in the small bathroom - the water still showering on her face, mixing with her tears as they ran down her face.

Not even hearing or noticing the door opening, the Doctor was suddenly there - yanking open the shower curtain, his eyes wide with fright and worry, and he took a moment to take her in - to give her a once over, she assumed to make sure she wasn't in some kind of physical harm. Bending down to pick her up out of the tub, his hands firm upon her naked flesh, digging in - the screaming stopped.

Abruptly. Realization flooded into existence. It had been her - that horrible noise had come from her. It was all too much - she shook her head as if to say "no", but to what, she couldn't comprehend. Standing there in front of him, his arms holding her up as water dripped from her hair to her shoulders, she let out a harsh gasp before dissolving into tears. Her hands covered her face and she was torn between loss and confusion and emptiness and embarrassment. There was so much water, from the pools around her feet to the tears clouding her vision, she felt like she was slipping, even though she was standing on a dry towel. Sobbing, she stumbled towards him, arms outstretched in a desperate attempt to reach him, even though she felt his grip on her. She needed to grab him, hold him - needed to be close to him.

His embrace on her felt solid - it almost matched the expression on his face. His mouth dropped open as he got a good look at her face. She didn't understand his surprise for a moment, and then as her head continued to pound, she remembered hitting her head. There must be a good knot or bruise showing now, she groaned inwardly.

"How did you... Are you hurt?" He asked her as he grabbed hold of her chin, forcing her face towards the light on the ceiling as he inspected her head. Tears coursed down her cheeks, as his lithe fingers gently probed at the throbbing skin. Pulling back from him with a sharp gasp, she felt helplessly hurt and confused.

"Rose, let me see," he said as he reached towards her again. Again, she leaned away from him, crying into her hands, not knowing what to do or what she wanted. Shame hit her as she realized she was standing in front of him unclothed. She quickly turned away from him, covering herself with her arms and hands to the best of her ability, with little success. Embarrassment flooded her and she was appalled that she put herself in a position to be taken advantage of. The one thing she'd been adamant about not doing, and here she was doing it. Her cheeks burned in mortification.

"Here, let's get you warm." The Doctor grabbed the towel and wrapped it snugly around her, covering her modestly. The towel was huge on her, and so soft - as if he'd covered her with a soft blanket. She'd wondered earlier if it was even from Earth. She'd never felt anything as soft there.

With resolve, the Doctor then pulled her to him and she let him. Folding her in close to him, tucking her under one of his arms - holding her up - he reached behind her, getting the arm of his brown pinstriped suit wet in the process, and turned off the water. The pipes of the TARDIS squeaked and then all was quiet, except for the weeping.

Rose had fallen into him, her arms squished between the two of them, and the tears that hadn't come - that had refused to come for so long, had finally made their appearance. She didn't care where she was, or who she was, or that she was standing in a towel in his arms, or that the Doctor had seen her naked. She was lost and she was nothing and she needed...

Her face was scrunched, her hair was matted down, covering her eyes - she couldn't see, and she was sure her nose was dripping. She couldn't care less. Nothing in the world mattered anymore. The Doctor sat her down on the edge of the tub and knelt down in front of her, his hands softly caressing her all over, surely checking her for further injuries, as if he were the one needing reassuring. Still, she cried.

"Alright, Rose," he said as he lifted a hand to her chin, "Try and calm down some. Let's take a couple of deep breaths. There you go - like that.

Let's get you cleaned up and that hair dried. Don't want you getting sick." The Doctor grabbed at a hand towel, turned a little cold water on it, and little by little, cleaned up her face, calming her ever so slightly with every gentle caress of her face. Soon, her anguished sobs became hard gasps, and then - silent tears with the repeating sniffle.

The Doctor grabbed her hairbrush from the sink and very gently started to run it through her long hair. He made no comment at all towards her, saying nothing about the state he found her in, or the fact that she was now a swollen faced, sniffling, shivering mess. He slowly untangled and straightened her damp hair, allowing long strokes so the hair could have a chance to dry more quickly as he brushed. It felt good, soothing.

He finished combing her hair and led her back into her bedroom, her hand in his. Standing in the center of the room, he slowly walked around her gathering up clothes for her to wear - setting them on the bed for her. He continued to talk to her, keeping up a steady flow of normal dialogue towards her as he moved. As if it were routine for him to get her dried and ready for bed every night.

"Did you know that the Great Muddy Ponds of Yupsori are an excellent source of fiber? It sounds disgusting, but in actuality - it's brilliant! They take some mud and filter it through little things that resemble those little coned-shaped coffee filters you humans are so keen on - it's just amazing!" He rambled on about nothing in particular, just continued to talk, as if he knew that she just needed to know there was someone else there, someone to make her feel less alone than she was.

Tears continued silently trailing down her cheeks - once she'd started, she didn't think she'd be able to stop. She didn't even feel as though she was "crying". It was just a continual flow of tears that refused to be contained. Bringing her hand up to her face, she just wiped at them furiously, in a pathetic attempt to dry her face. The more she wiped it seemed, the more tears there were to wipe. It was ridiculous.

Sniffling and occasionally hiccuping, she felt completely absurd, standing in the middle of her bedroom wearing only a towel as the Doctor ran circles around her talking about fiber and mud ponds. It was all so ridiculous, that she simply burst out with a harsh laugh. The entire thing could not be more absurd. Tears fell from her eyes as she laughed and she was sure she'd lost her mind.

And now, now she was laughing so much that it hurt, gasping for breath, feeling like her sides were going to break in two. Verging on the edge of hysteria - it was brutal, oh so brutal, and it hurt, and she couldn't stop. Why was she laughing of all things?

She turned to him, palms upward and arms hanging in front of her in confusion. The Doctor had stopped moving, his eyes closed, and Rose watched as he slowly opened them once more, his eyes darker than ever before and glistening as he gazed at her sadly.

He looked at her now like she'd known he would, like a man who really understood loss, who had aged so much longer than he should have lived. His eyes grew darker as they held her own, and she saw his despair for her. Quickly, he crossed the distance between them, seized her to him, and held on as tightly as he could.

Her laughter soon died, her voice straining from harsh chokes to all out sobs. She felt like a child again, unable to control herself, screaming with the unfairness of life. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders and she reached her arms around him, gripping him to her.

"Doctor... Doctor! Oh, God. They're dead, Doctor! They're dead! My Mum's dead..." She repeated it to him, over and over until she knew it couldn't be real, couldn't believe it could be real. It was her worst nightmare come to life. "They're dead...How could they be dead?"

She was screaming at him now, her poor Doctor. Crying and tortured and completely unhinged and she was hurting - oh, she was hurting so badly. It was pain like she'd never known, it hurt her physically even, her stomach contorting and tightening and her chest pounded brutally. The kind of pain that left her gutted with emptiness and aching. And the Doctor - he was so quiet, so understanding, so patient.

Rose was undone. She felt sick - sicker than she'd ever felt. She was going to be ill. Laughter and crying be damned, she was going to be sick.

The Doctor must have heard her groan, or perhaps he'd seen the color leave her cheeks - the waves of nausea hitting her like the ocean rushing up against the sand, over and over and she felt her stomach clench - and he was dragging her back into the bathroom - that horrid bathroom where realities finally hit.

"Hold on, Rose - here you go," he said, and she vomited. He rubbed her back gently and pulled her hair away from her face as she lost what little was left in her stomach, her head hovering over the toilet. Grabbing the washcloth left on the sink, he turned on the faucet, wet it and proceeded to help her wipe her face, and her neck, soothing her with it's coolness as well as with his murmured words of comfort.

She was in hell. This was hell. And you know what they say about hell - it's eternal. She wondered what she did in this horrid, hopeless life to deserve all this. But then, she was at least still alive. She cringed at the horrible thought.

Rose tried to push the selfish thoughts from her mind. This wasn't about her. For once, it wasn't even about the Doctor.

He was being so nice to her. Rose had never felt so vulnerable before, so open, so raw. She'd never let her guard down this much in front of anybody. It was a good thing she trusted him so much, because she did and he'd earned it time and time again. She'd never felt so vulnerable before, and she desperately wanted to hold onto him and never let him go. It was probably a good thing he was being so kind - if this was how her day was going so far, with him being wonderful, she couldn't even imagine what it might have been like, had she had to face it all alone.

"I just...I just want to go back to bed, Doctor," she whispered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

Gently, he held her hand, as he led her back to bed. He pushed the covers back for her, so she could climb back in and tucked her in as if she was a child. Dropping a kiss to her forehead, he told her that he would be there when she woke up. Refusing to look at him in case she was denied, she rolled to her side, and murmured, "lay with me?"

And after a long moment, feeling his long body shift to lay against her back as he slung an arm over her waist holding her closely, her eyes flitted shut again and she fell into an exhausted sleep once again.


	3. As much as the bombilation in my mind,

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything in the Who or Torchwood universe - I only wish I did. Nothing belongs to me, everything belongs to the creators. I just like to play around in the universe. :)**

**A very special thank you to Liv16 for being the greatest beta I could ever have hoped to meet and work with, who is a constant source of help, suggestion, and inspiration, and without whom I would be lost. Also, many sincere thanks to The Plaid Slytherin and TV-a-holic, who helped me to make the most of my first DW fan fiction story.**

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy. Reviews very welcome!**

**…**

**France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath;**

**A rage whose heat hath this condition,**

**That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,**

**The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France.**

**King John (3.1.349-52), King John**

**...**

The afternoon seemed to be going a little smoother than the early morning had gone. Instead of the shock of effectuating what had happened, Rose simply woke up and knew and felt all the more gutted for it. She finally rolled over and kicked at those hot blankets once more. They felt heavier than they had before, and looking closely, Rose figured out why. There was another that had been added! My God, didn't the Doctor realize it was too warm in here to need that many? She couldn't help but wonder if Time Lords were cold-blooded aliens.

She sat up, holding her head as it pounded, feeling heavy like she'd walked through fog and everything was still hazy and unclear. Like when she had that horrible sinus infection after the Doctor had taken her to the Land of the Tree Stones, and the stones had actually been these flower-like bulbs that sprayed alien pollen out whenever you bent down to smell their glorious aromas.

Rose remembered those horrid little plants well. Her face had swollen up too twice it's size and she'd wheezed for weeks afterwards! The worst part about the whole ordeal though, was the massive-sized headache she'd felt for days. The pain was unlike any migraine she'd ever experienced before and Rose had barely been able to sit up without feeling ill from the intensity of the pounding, much less lie down, which seemed to cause the suffering she felt to get worse. The Doctor hadn't even been able to give her anything to ease her suffering the entire week she was down out of fear that it would react with the allergy, somehow making it worse. It had been a cruel week, and the only comfort that came out of the entire episode was the knowledge that during the Doctor had never once left her side during the duration of her illness. He'd sat by her and read aloud to her and held her hands through the worst of it.

This afternoon, however, her current headache reminded her of that horrible trip, and the awful few days that followed. The difference being that she knew she wouldn't be better in a few short days.

She wasn't sure if she'd ever be alright again.

Yesterday, Rose had lost two of the three most important people in her life, and it would never be the same again. Sniffling slightly, Rose turned to climb out of bed.

The Doctor hadn't left, as promised, although he wasn't in bed with her anymore. She'd rolled over once in her sleep reaching out for him, and had found the spot where he'd laid empty and cold. She tried not to think much of it, as she knew he didn't really sleep, but the feeling of waking up alone was not something she had mentally prepared herself for, and it left her feeling hollow and sad.

All the same, Rose considered, his willingness to lay with her as she drifted off - the feeling of being safe in his arms as he held her tenderly, cuddling her cold limbs against the warmth of his body - had allowed her to feel safe and loved, even if it wasn't meant to last more than just a little while.

He hadn't gone far, though, as he was sitting in the same chair as earlier, flipping through another book with his legs propped up against the base of the bed. He had those glasses on, the ones that made her blush when she thought of how handsome he was when he wore them, and she watched, enthralled, as every few minutes, he'd push them up the bridge of his nose - only to have them slide down again a few minutes later.

Peering at the book in his hands, she squinted to try and read the cover. Circles upon circles - it obviously was written in Gallifreyan. Shrugging to herself, she didn't even bother looking any further. The TARDIS couldn't be bothered to translate Gallifreyan, Rose had long since figured out. It really was unfair to the companions who traveled with the Doctor, if one took the time to think about it. Not only unfair, but slightly impractical. Rose would never be able to help pilot the TARDIS in case of emergency, as all of the controls were labeled in Gallifreyan. She would never be able to read most of the books in the library, not that she normally spent much time in libraries. She would never be able to read the Doctor's handwriting, when he scribbled notes to himself and left them all over for himself. She still couldn't figure out if they were reminders of things to do, or grocery lists, or simply things he randomly thought up and wrote down so as not to forget. She hadn't asked him about the notes, as she wasn't sure if they would be a sore spot with him or not, and her curiosity hadn't gotten the best of her yet, thanks goodness. Rose could barely recall things she wanted to remember from the previous week, let alone from lifetimes ago, and she couldn't imagine trying to recall things from almost a thousand years ago. That thought alone was mind-boggling.

Rose couldn't help but wonder what kind of book he was currently reading. Wondered if he was the type for biography or romance, mystery or something simply educational. For all she knew, he could be looking up recipes in a cookbook. The thought alone amused her as he had to practically be dragged into the Galley to so much as eat, let alone cook something.

He was obviously absorbed in whatever he was reading as he still hadn't responded to her waking up. Tilting her head to the side, she studied him for a moment, rare as it was to watch him being still, trying to imagine what kind of story would captivate the Doctor's attention. After 900 years, one would think he'd read all there was to read, and find most things boring as he'd already experienced them all.

Suddenly, Rose felt a swell of guilt rise inside of her, suffocating her. As she grasped her chest in horror, the feeling was suddenly gone, as if it had never been there. How very strange. Looking towards the Doctor in confusion, she found that he had finally turned his attention towards her.

"Rose?" He asked, his voice soft and slightly hoarse.

"That was odd," Rose replied.

"What was odd?" He closed his book and set it gently to the side.

"I just felt..." Rose scratched her ear. "It was..."

"What did you feel? You felt something?" He looked concerned.

It was too weird. Perhaps she was just experiencing a moment of crazy - perhaps the Doctor was finally rubbing off on her.

"I just had a moment, where I felt..." Rose trailed off, "...it felt horrible - like I was guilty for somethin' and then it was suddenly gone...like it wasn't me... but I wasn't feeling guilty - I was only tryin' to figure out what kind of book you were..."

The Doctor waited, frowning.

Brushing it off as just one of those things, Rose shook her head as if to clear it. "Don't worry about it, it was probably nothin'." Her voice trailed off.

He was obviously intrigued, but he didn't press her on it, for which she felt thankful.

Rose let her feet drop to the floor and stiffly stood up. She padded to the bathroom to relieve herself and to wash, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she passed it. Eyes widening and mouth dropping open, she gasped as she stared at her reflection. Her eyes were red and swollen, bloodshot even, and she looked as if she'd aged 40 years in one day. The lines around her eyes from worry and guilt now seemed permanently etched upon her face. Her cheeks were red and chapped, no doubt from the tears that had refused to stop. Her nose was blocked and puffy, and she was sure she was coming down with some kind of cold, because she was constantly having to sniff to keep her nose from running.

Her hair was matted and oily, like she hadn't showered in ages, even though she'd washed it thoroughly just last night. Her skin was pale with a slightly green tint to it, like she always looked right after having a horrible bout of the flu. The worst thing Rose noticed, however, was not the physical imperfections the mirror reflected, but rather the expression she wore on her face.

She'd seen that face on hundreds of other people. The face that had seen too much, had experienced too much, and had gone through too much. The face of someone who was much older now, much more mature than their years proved. A worldly face, in the most heartbreakingly way.

Rose quickly grabbed a washcloth out of the cabinet and turned the faucet on. Wetting the cloth in cold water, Rose wrung it out quickly, before opening it and draping it over her face. She just held it to her cheeks for a moment, trying to absorb some of the cool to help with the swelling. It didn't help much, rather, worked the other way around. The washcloth warmed too quickly, and Rose had to repeat the process a good few times in order for it to begin to feel effective.

Grabbing her hairbrush, she roughly pulled it through her hair, untangling some of the worst knots and putting order to some of chaos. Taking a deep breath, she looked at herself again. Her complexion was less pale now, a bit red from the scrubbing, and her eyes didn't look quite as swollen, although they were far from normal. Her hair was now out of her eyes and she felt at least presentable.

She lingered for a few more moments, staring at herself and yet, at nothing, before returning to the room. The Doctor still wasn't overly talkative, seeming fine with simply watching her from the other side of the room, careful and studious. She wasn't sure if he was waiting for her to speak, and hoping not, because she didn't have a clue as what to say next. She couldn't imagine what he found so fascinating about her, that he would look at her in such a way. As if she was a problem that he was trying to solve.

Feeling completely drained, Rose walked back towards the bed, her hands fidgeting slightly with the bottom of her shirt, pulling and tugging it down across her stomach, as she turned towards the Doctor. He stood up and met her, giving her a careful once over as he pulled her into a casual hug. With that, it was as if any energy she'd held seeped out and she weakly leaned into him to enjoy the circular caresses he began making on her back as he tightened his hold on her. He had such an amazing warmth about him, and Rose loved leaning into him and feeling the thrumming of his hearts.

"How are you holding up?" He asked softly into her hair.

Rose shook her head slightly, still not feeling up to much conversation.

"Are you hungry?

Another shake.

"I think you should at least drink something. How about some tea?"

Tea sounded alright. Warm and light. She could probably handle that. Nodding imperceptibly against his shoulder, she quietly agreed. Reaching down for her hand and grabbing it, he lead her to the kitchen, sat her down at the table and started filling the kettle with water at the sink. She pushed aside the scattered pile of books he had left on the table during one of his late night snack and story-times, to clear a spot to rest her elbows.

"I was thinking we'd just take a couple of days to rest, Rose," he began, looking over his shoulder at her as he spoke. "We've been so busy with everything lately, I think it'll do us both some good, to just sit still for a wee bit and take it easy." He put the kettle on the stove and flipped the switch before turning to face her, crossing his legs as he leaned against counter. She listened, fighting the frown that crossed her expression as she wondered who this person was sitting across from her. Her Doctor would never admit to being overly busy and needing a few days of rest. The thought would never even cross his mind.

"The TARDIS needs a few repairs that I've been neglecting because we've been moving around so much lately. And now, with everything..." the Doctor paused, letting the sentence drift off, and then, carefully focusing on Rose, he said regretfully, "there will be some things that we'll need to get sorted out. Your Mum's apartment, the funerals..."

Ah, that was what this was all about. Rose stilled and closed her eyes. She hadn't even thought...she hadn't even begun to think about...

"But we don't have to worry about them today, Rose," he quickly tried to reassure her. "In fact, you can take as long as you need to - time machine and all..." he bowed his head, looking away from her for a moment before continuing, "...so don't you worry about a thing today. We'll stay for as long as we need to." He sounded so sure, more sure than he looked, that is. He was plainly struggling with staying put, clearly looked slightly nauseous about it, but was trying to make things easier for her, nonetheless - trying to give her the time she needed.

She was grateful about that. It seemed the slightest little thing was overwhelming and she wasn't sure how well she'd deal if something happened or changed in the near future.

The kettle started whistling and the Doctor whirled around to remove it from the stove. Pouring each of them a mug, he then brought them over to the table - scraping the chair on the floor as he pulled it from under the table with his foot. He sat down beside her as she wrapped her chilled hands around the hot mug. Seeing the mug in the Doctor's hands made her eyes well up - that awful emptiness in her chest trying to consume her once again.

Rose loved the Doctor's mug. Mickey had picked it up at one of those shops that carried just about every little thing one would never actually need. He was always dragging her into those kinds of shops, exclaiming over the smallest trinket. Although she had found them amusing, and enjoyed sharing in the fun with Mickey, she never actually bought anything. What little money she ever had was usually spent on things her and Mum needed, like paying the mortgage or the electric bill.

She and Mickey had come across this mug, though, and they'd laughed and laughed over it. The mug was plain white, tall enough that it was actually purposeful, and across the side, were the words, "Trust me, I'm a doctor."

Rose remembered Mickey presenting their find proudly to the Doctor, and she smiled slightly at the memory of his reaction. Pleased didn't even describe it - he was simply joyous over it - pulling both Mickey and herself into a huge group hug before leaping around the TARDIS console, taking them into flight. He used it every day, he loved it so much. She'd never seen it and thought much of Mickey, though. But this afternoon, she couldn't tear her thoughts away from her childhood friend. Her smile faded.

She stared into her cup for a few minutes, watching the tea ripple as her hands shook. It still felt hot, and she knew she should wait until it cooled a bit more before drinking it. The Doctor was already gulping at his. She was still amazed that the burning hot liquid never seemed to bother him. Pulling the mug to her lips, she finally took a slow sip. It was still too hot, but in a way, it felt good. Tasted fair enough, even if it wasn't her mum's tea.

Rose swallowed a lump in her throat as she tried hard to not think about the fact that she'd never again taste her mum's tea. Sure, she could make it pretty similarly, but there was something about the fact that mum made it, that made it better than any tea she could ever make herself. Setting her mug down, she stirred it absently with her spoon, half-ignoring the Doctor, half-avoiding him and the conversation he was very patiently waiting to have with her. She could tell he wanted to talk with her, as it was blatantly strewn across his handsome features, which was unusual in itself because most of the time, he was very difficult to read. Nevertheless, as he hadn't come right out and said anything to her, she let the conversation wait.

Reaching across the table to the small pile of books that the Doctor kept at the edge of the table for late night reading, she grabbed a distinctive old-looking one from the middle of the pile, somewhat carelessly knocking over the few she'd previously stacked when pushing them aside. The Doctor leaned over after her and stacked them back up, handling the books with more care than she had used.

Of course, they all looked "old" to Rose, but there was something in particular about this one - the binding was secure, and yet looked so frail, Rose was afraid it might wilt at the slightest touch. It reminded Rose of one of those old, worn, and dusty books off a high shelf in a library - the kind of book that is shelved more for "atmosphere" than for actual reading. The kind of book that usually put people off in search of something brighter and newer looking.

But Rose was strangely captivated by it. Skimming the binding lightly with her finger, she felt a warm sensation tingle through her hand - up her arm, into her mind. Her eyes widened in shock as she glanced back and forth quickly between the ancient book and her hand, wondering what had just happened. Rose carefully laid the scarlet book on the table, dropping her arms to her lap as she peered curiously at the cover once more. It wasn't titled.

"What's wrong?" The Doctor asked.

"The book just shock'd me." Rose replied, frowning.

"The book shocked you?" The Doctor repeated.

"Yeah, it shock'd me." Rose responded, trying to to feel offended by his slightly condescending tone.

He leaned back in his chair. "Hmm. Well, it must've been that you and the book are not good electrical conductors.

A long moment passed between the two of them before Rose gave him a timid smile. "Go on then, Doctor. Explain."

He grinned and leaned forward, now at comfort in "lecture mode". "You see, when you touched, it caused electrons from the book to exchange or share with your own."

Rose looked at him blankly. "What?"

"Static Electricity." He answered, with a slight grin.

"Static Electricity." Rose repeated. "You couldn't have just said static electricity?"

"I did say static electricity!" The Doctor looked indignant. "It's exactly what I said."

"No," Rose said patiently, "what you said was a very complicated explanation of somethin' very simple. We've talked about this, Doctor."

"But it's not a simple thing, static electricity. It's very complicated and fascinating." He started pulling bits and pieces out of his jacket pocket and began fiddling with two circular discs of metal, scanning them or whatever he was doing with them with his sonic screwdriver.

Rose resisted the urge to roll her eyes as her eyes fell to the book in front of her once more. She looked at it dubiously. It hadn't felt like static electricity. It'd felt like...well, like the book was alive. As if it were a vibrating, living organism.

But that was ridiculous. Books weren't alive. It just didn't make any sense.

Slowly, Rose reached out to touch the book again. Caressing the cover, nothing happened this time and she shrugged off the weirdness once again. Strange things were happening a bit too often for Rose's liking, and it made her feel decidedly out of sorts.

"Did you get shocked again?" The Doctor asked, while he mopped up some tea that had spilled when he'd accidentally knocked his mug with his elbow, trying to find the right angle to sonic the two metal discs together. Throwing the rag behind him into the sink, he pushed the pile of books closer to Rose in attempts to protect them in case of further and more serious table accidents.

"No." Rose said, still stroking the book. Rose lifted the cover gently to explore some of it's contents. Of course it would be in Gallifreyan. Sighing, she flipped through it slowly, being careful not to rip or tear any of the fragile pages. It was a shame she couldn't understand what the book held, as it was artistically one of the most beautiful things she'd ever come across.

Although the pages were thin and delicate, like that of a very worn Bible, they were more opaque than parchment or paper. The swirls and circles looked like they had been etched in gold with a very fine paintbrush, and the delineations seemed to glow a slight red, almost seeming to come out of the page as Rose studied them. The drawings weren't like anything she could place though - they seemed more like inkblots than actual representations of anything, only, the more she concentrated it was almost as if they...

"It's a sacred book." The Doctor interrupted. "More like a historical document, really. It's been around since the beginning - antediluvian even by the time I was loomed. It's one of Gallifrey's most enshrined collections."

"Collections of what?" Rose asked, interested despite of how she felt.

"Well," the Doctor scratched his head, looking a little sheepish to have been caught reading such a story, "It's more like a fairy tale, really. Or how you would view a fairy tale."

"What, like Red Riding Hood? Snow White? That kind of thing?"

"Pretty much." The Doctor nodded. "Only, Gallifreyan legend claims that these stories were stories of truth. That the content within these books foretold of the most primordial of our species. Time Goddesses, of a sort, that could control and ameliorate,"

"Ameliorate?" Rose interrupted.

"They could heal." The Doctor explained, whispering almost reverently. "Story tells it that they were unique to the beginning of our species."

"How so?"

"Time Lords back then interfered with time and space, universally. And all of those decisions to interfere, and how to interfere, were based on emotion. Couldn't be helped. Everything was in chaos and no one was able to focus enough separating logic from their feelings in order to control the power of the Time Vortex. Unlike the human race, where decisions are loosely based on feeling and morality for the greater good, the Time Lords weren't able to see right from wrong. There was no concept of conscience. They could only see right or left, persay. Life and death decisions - well, even more than that, existence of planets, of entire species, and dimensions within those, were based on a whim of the individual, which put everything in existence at the fate of how that individual felt at that moment in time. The universe was at risk, and it was a very, very dangerous time."

"But I thought your race didn't make decision based on emotions." Rose pointed out. "I thought you had overcome that pesky human quality." She had tried to joke, but it fell flat. She felt so tired.

"Like I said, these were all stories and legend by the time I was loomed." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Time Lords had learned to conquer their emotions and to think logically by then - learned to not show emotion and make decisions based upon emotions. Harnessing the amount of power we have at our control, it's of the utmost importance to protect everything around us.

A law was put into place - a golden rule for Time Lords, if you will - to keep the universe in continuance, to ensure that we do no unimaginable harm towards it's time line or place in reality."

The Doctor closed his eyes in approbation as he softly spoke words that held the utmost importance to him. "As the oldest and most mighty race in the universe, having the power to change and control what is, what could be, what may not, and what may never be on the galaxies below, we are sworn never to interfere, only to watch."

Rose was fascinated.

"So what supposedly happen'd, then? How did the Time Lords keep from... erasin' existence, before they knew not to mess aroun' and interfere?" Rose asked, unsure of how to word the lack of universe.

"Well, that's more of the fairy tale part of the story. Legend says that Gallifrey was originally made up of three classes of people. The Gallifreyans, the Time Lords and Time Ladies, and the Time Goddesses."

"Your people really weren't full of themselves at all when they handed out names and titles, were they?" Rose quipped cheekily.

"Steady on," the Doctor protested with a grin, his eyes twinkling as she returned to usual self for a moment. "If I may continue?"

Rose nodded, waving her hand solicitously for him to carry on. The Doctor rarely opened up about his past to her, and she wasn't going to miss out on this conversation for anything.

"You already know that I am a Time Lord."

Rose nodded.

"The equivalent of myself in female form, was of course, a Time Lady. Gallifreyans were the people on the planet who weren't loomed - they were birthed - and they were forbidden the ability to look into the Time Vortex, and they never experienced the wonders of time. They never had access to the Old Gallifreyan Institutes of Higher Learning, where Time Lords and Ladies trained and studied. Really, they were very similar to human beings, in all actuality."

Rose leaned forward in her chair, her chin resting on her hands as she listened. She felt a sudden understanding to why the Doctor stayed so close to Earth. Bits and pieces of his personality were finally making sense.

"The Time Goddesses, on the other hand, were supposedly very rare." The Doctor closed his eyes, concentrating as if to remember the stories of long ago. "They were made up of a small group of women, immortal and powerful. Legend says that they were held at a place of the highest esteem, above the Time Lords and Ladies."

"They were immortal?"

"I think this is where regeneration came into play. Originally, Gallifreyans, and Time Lords and Ladies only lived to be about 120 human years. The Time Lords and Ladies didn't have the knowledge to regenerate yet, and therefore were not considered "immortal". The books say immortal, but personally, I think as it was just the beginning of regeneration, they honestly didn't know how many times they could do it."

Rose was surprised. She'd honestly never thought about the history of the Time Lords before. As exhausted as she felt, she found herself both interested and intrigued. At the very least, the conversation was keeping her mind off more unpleasant thoughts.

"So your people didn't know how to regenerate? You just lived the one life, like humans?"

"Gallifreyans never had the ability to regenerate, and that never changed. Very similar to humans, in that. For the Time Lords and Ladies, part of being loomed into existence, and accessing and dispensing of the Time Vortex gave us the ability we needed to regenerate ourselves into a longer existence. However, we didn't have the knowledge to do so until the Time Goddesses allowed us that privilege."

The Doctor gave a controlled smirk as he said, "privilege."

"So these Time Goddesses, who where they? Why were they so special to the story?" Rose asked taking a long sip of her tea. It had finally cooled to a more drinkable temperature.

The Doctor looked somewhat uncomfortable before he answered. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eye.

"Supposedly, they were able to heal people."

"Yeah, you said that already. But in what way, exactly? Were people sick?"

He shook his head. "Emotionally, mostly, although they did have it in their capacity to heal physically. They could see the problem on the inside, per say. I did say that they are the ones who supposedly gave the Time Lords the knowledge to regenerate. They could see what was preventing us from the ability, in our genetic code, so that when we loomed future generations, we could fix it to where we could use the ability."

Rose couldn't stop her eyebrows from lifting, even if she'd tried.

"The Time Goddesses could also read people's feelings, and find ways to comfort them. They could take people's hurt and anger away, allowing them to see the heart of the matter in question. They could remove people's grief and hatred, to allow the person to move on from whatever had happened. Scarily, they could even change how someone felt about things."

"What? Like make someone fall out of love with someone, and make them fall for someone else? That kind of thing?"

The Doctor nodded. "Pretty much, I think. Something to that effect, at least."

"Good God. That's...scary."

"Yes it is. Really scary. See why it's all legend and fairy tale, though? It's hardly believable." He replied. "The ability to have that much power - and understand power - it would make the person a god. Well, I suppose there is a reason we refer to them as "Goddesses," huh? Hmm... never thought about it quite like that before." He rambled.

"Might be nice too, though." Rose mumbled.

"What? Being god-like? What do you mean?" He leaned forward on the table now, towards her.

"Nothin'." She looked down at her hands once more.

"Rose?"

"Just migh' be nice to have someone to be able to take away bad feelings. Might be nice to be able to make people feel better." Her voice shook as she closed the beautiful book and set it softly back at the top of the pile. Her hand lingered against the binding once more, enjoying the warm feeling she got from holding such a story in her hands.

"I'm sorry, Rose." He looked at her sadly. "If I could do anything, you know I would, don't you?"

She didn't answer him. Instead, raised her hands to her head - it was starting to pound again. She was going to have to take something.

"Rose, are you feeling alright?" He looked at her carefully before finishing off his tea, slowly taking the cup up to the sink and rinsing it out, giving her the time she needed to gather her thoughts, before he came back to the table. The chair scraped against the floor as he scooted it closer, reaching a hand across to hold onto hers. His fingers were warm against hers, which caught her attention, as usually, he ran a few degrees cooler than everyone she'd ever met. She must be cold, although she couldn't really tell.

"Is there anything you need? Anything I can do at all? Anything the TARDIS can do?"

Why was he asking? He knew there was nothing. Rose stared at him, blankly, wishing they could go back to the Time Goddess conversation. At least that had kept him interested in something other than focusing his attentions on her. She didn't feel like talking about how she was feeling. She wasn't sure she was feeling much, anyway.

The concern in his face saddened her, and she wished she could offer him something, to let him feel better.

But wait...there was something...he's just said something. It was finally sinking in. The TARDIS. They were in a time machine. The TARDIS could do anything! Go anywhere! Any time!

Jumping up, bumping the table, and almost knocking over the remains of her tea in the process, Rose latched onto the one idea that made sense in all the chaos. Her eyes shone with excitement once more, and she felt like laughing at the sheer brilliance of it all. They didn't have to be dead! She didn't have to be alone! Her Mum could still be alive! And Mickey! She'd have her best friend back!

The Doctor was now looking back with a mixture of dread and unease. Almost as if he knew what her excitement was about and was waiting to see...

"Doctor! We can go back; we can save them!" She almost laughed in happiness. "Well, not save them exactly, because we could warn them before they left, an' then they wouldn't need savin'." Rose grinned at him, the future was becoming bright again - everything was going to be great. She felt light, and giddy - happy, even! "We don't even hav' to see them at all! We can just do somethin' to Mickey's car - break it somehow, pull a spark plug out or something, I don't know. Anything!"

But the Doctor, frowning, was slowly shaking his head, now. "Rose, you know we can't." He was completely serious, and looked utterly miserable.

She didn't care.

"What? Yes, we can! We absolutely can." She wasn't going to take no for an answer. Besides, why would he say no? This was her family - her Mum for goodness sake! People he knew! The Doctor saved people all the time - that's what he did. He didn't just let people die for no reason.

Rose reached towards his hands, grabbing them to pull him up - he had to help her! He was going to take her back! But... he wasn't getting up. The Doctor resisted, his fingers gently closing over her tugging hands, holding them in his own - stilling them, and her.

"No, we can't, Rose. I'm sorry, I can't." His voice cracked. Why did he look so sad? She looked at him in confusion. This was going to be great. Didn't he see? Couldn't he see how much this meant to her? How much she needed this?

Finally standing up next to her, he held her gaze, his own expression firm, imploring her to follow what he was saying. "We can't go back. I can never go back on anyone's personal time line." Rose swayed slightly. He reached up, rubbing her arms gently.

"You know this, Rose - think about it. Remember the church? Your father? The paradox? Remember the chaos it caused?" He was begging her to remember, needing her to understand. "We could collapse the universe if we went back." His face was resolved and full of remorse; his eyes shining with tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry - but we can't go back."

Oh, God - it hurt to hear. Rose fought the urge to cover her ears like a child. Of course she remembered. How could she forget - her father had been so brave...

But she had. She had forgotten. She could only think of the here and now, and the pain that threatened to overwhelm her.

Blinking, she stepped back. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared up at him in horror, the ache in her stomach making her hunch forward slightly. She clutched her hands to her abdomen.

"But my Mum... Doctor. And Mickey..." The joy that she'd just felt, crashed into the pit of her stomach in that second. How could she have been so stupid, to get her hopes up. How could she have made herself believe... believe that just once... he would put her first in his life. That he would help her the way he helped everyone else.

He'd tried to reach for her then, but she pushed him away, harder than she thought herself capable. He stumbled backwards, trying to catch his fall on the table before he crashed to the floor, unsuccessfully.

She wanted to wince, to apologize - to help him up, even, but she didn't. Eyes narrowed, she walked slowly to him, seething. Her hands clenching at her sides as her heart hammered in her chest, feeling as if it would burst or break if she didn't do something to make him understand.

Standing over him, she couldn't stop the out pour of pent-up anger and emotion. She couldn't help but scream and fight him on this. She would beg if she had to - would plead with him until she was nothing - but she wasn't going to take no for an answer - she couldn't.

"We have to! We have to go back and save them! We can! They don't have to be gone! They don't have to be! Please, Doctor! Please! Help me, please!" She fell to her knees, now face to face with him, imploring him. The tears that had threatened to fall, now spilled over, running down her cheeks as she looked up at him - clutching onto him. "It's what you do. You help people. Help me," she begged.

He wouldn't even look at her. The Doctor let out a sob, forcefully untangling himself from her grasp as he pulled himself up from her. Stumbling away from her, his shoulders drooping like he was weighed down by some unseen force, he leaned over on the table, trying to gain some control over himself once again. He was gasping harshly and hastily wiping at his cheeks with the palms of his hands.

She shouldn't have even asked. But what else was there to do? What other option did she have? What was the point of anything, if she couldn't have her family anymore in the end? What was the point of this stupid time machine if it never could help anyone that actually mattered to her?

All of her travels suddenly seemed so...pointless, she thought bitterly. Here she was with the last Time Lord in existence, having seen so many worlds and having helped so many people... and for what? What did it give her in return?

Rose's breath hitched and her hands covered her face to try and reign in the feelings of hate and despair. Collapsing into herself, she tearfully pleaded, "But, they're dead now... How am I supposed to go on? How am I supposed to live? Where will I go? They were my home. My Mum..." Her voice broke, making her unable to speak. Rose attempted to pull herself together to be strong, to say what needed to be said. To say what he needed to hear. Letting out a sob, she rocked back and forth, unable to stop herself from breaking in half, literally, with the agony - aching with a need so strong, for him to understand her.

"I need a home, Doctor. My home."

The problem was that he understood all too well. Glancing at his expression, she knew his face said so much more than he would ever be able to manage using words.

Walking to her, he knelt beside her and lifted her tear-stained face by the chin so that she was forced to look at him. His expression was unreadable as he studied her tear-stained face.

"You can always have a home here on the TARDIS, Rose." The Doctor reached to caress her cheek, brushing away her tears - touching her as if she was so fragile he was afraid she might break. "Always - you can stay here as long as you want. The TARDIS can be your home, too." He was so serious, so earnest, so kind.

She tried to nod, tried to speak, tried to respond - he was radiating such understanding and patience - and she knew that he hurt, like she was hurting. She knew what it should have meant to be offered such a gift, such a place in his life. Rose knew he'd never done that before - with anyone - knew that it had probably hurt him as much to offer as much as it did to not - and she desperately wanted to take him up on his offer and be grateful for it, but she couldn't. The TARDIS wasn't her home, and Rose didn't think it ever would feel as such to her.

Home had always been... well, home. The feel of familiarity when she walked down her street and up the stairs to her Mum's flat. The smell of her room and her Mum's perfume. Mickey's laugh and her Mum's nagging - that level of comfort that made her relax in places she never knew she were tight - that was home. That was what she craved, and no TARDIS and no Doctor could ever give her that. There were so many comforts in the TARDIS, so many luxuries and allowances that made living there seem unmatchable. But the familiarity of home and things that made Rose think of home were more poignant than ever. The smells, the sensations, the odd little comfort of a cup of tea from her mum - those were things that couldn't be matched.

Home was like childhood - uniquely her own and never duplicated, never changed. It was wherever her family was, wherever she was accepted and loved and needed. The Doctor may want her to stay, may need her to be with him now, but she knew that he never actually needed her. He just needed someone. And that could never be enough to give her the comfort of home with him.

As much as she had imagined the possibility of building a home with the Doctor, in the future, it had never been more than a fleeting thought as she knew he would never allow himself to have that with her. He'd even told her so, and that conversation popped into her memory and hurt her as fresh as the day he'd said it to her every time. For her to have that memory of that conversation, and then have him offer her a home on the TARDIS, in this way - it was too painful. Literally, Rose's ears hurt from hearing it. Never once would he consider building a home with her, oh no. He was simply ensuring that she'd never be homeless, and it just showed how little he understood both the concept of home, and the loss that she was experiencing. She really thought that he of all people - of all aliens - would understand loss more than anyone else. Evidently, though, it had been too long for him; he'd distanced himself from the pain too much, that he couldn't even relate to it anymore. Or her. And that hurt more than she thought it would.

She could tell that he sympathized with her. That he didn't like to see her hurt, or in pain. But that acknowledgement wasn't enough - wasn't what she needed.

She couldn't respond to him. Seconds ticked by and all she could do was tremble in fury. Closing her eyes in attempt to take a mental step back from him, with him being so close - it was all too much. She felt waves of fury and willed the storm within her to calm - it was too much.

Angry and upset - how could she be anything but - she felt herself crumble. Finally giving into the hurt, Rose lashed out at him - because he was the only one there - him because he was so understanding and so kind, and at the same time - oh so cruel and not knowing. It hurt her worse still, because he knew exactly how she felt. A hundred times over, he understood, and still... he said the wrong thing by offering her a home on the TARDIS. He hadn't offered her a home with him - no, that would be expecting too much - he'd offered her a place instead of a person, and he'd hurt her more than she knew he was capable of.

She couldn't look at him.

Perhaps he really was a monster. She'd seen it in him, on occasion. He hid it well, but she'd glimpsed a peek at the side he protected her from, and the rawness that lingered there - it frightened her. When he'd invited her to go with him, she'd known that he was dangerous - how could a man like him exist and not be? She'd had to turn to Mickey, so that Mickey's presence would remind her that she was needed and loved and safe - she had a family she belonged to. She couldn't just leave them and go running off with a complete stranger. And because of that thought and Mickey's reminding presence, she'd been able to say 'no' to the Doctor, without the decision breaking her.

And then he'd come back. The promise of time travel had been too much to turn down. The excitement - the possibilities - the constant travel - who in their right mind could turn it down? It had been wonderful, exceeded all of her dreams, and Rose had loved it.

It was so different from Rose's home on Earth. Other than Jackie's constant nagging and the fact that she could go on and on for days about the drama at work, life was very slow. As much as her mum could nag and complain, she always was a source of constant warmth and love. Rose never felt lonely because she knew her mum was honest with her and talked to her about things. Let her in on what she was thinking and how she felt. Rose knew her, in and out, and there were no secrets between them. And then Mickey joined their family and Rose's relationship with him was always as open, loving, and familial as it was with her mum.

Life with the Doctor was completely different - even during the slow moments, as rare as they were. He was a constant ball of activity, kept her on her toes at all times. He took her to dangerous planets and they always seemed to be fighting for their lives. He would grab her hand and lead her into the chaos, protecting her and comforting her, but never giving any part of himself to her. He was never open with her about himself or his past. Never included her in his private moments, where he'd disappear for hours on end, only to emerge with something new to show her or a place to take her to.

At first, she had thought it was so fun, so exciting. As time grew on, however, she found herself becoming increasingly lonely, which she couldn't understand because he was always right there in front of her. By the time she realized that what she was feeling was loneliness, the Doctor had shown her that just because someone is physically close to you, doesn't mean you know each other in the slightest.

Rose desperately wanted to know him, to be let in, to be allowed to fall for him, but he worked diligently at keeping her at arms length - and it hurt to be faced with acknowledging that. It hurt further, because she had always been open with him, letting him in, letting him see her.

He didn't love her, she knew that. Didn't think of her as family or even consider the future possibility, of growing a family with her. And it wasn't because he wasn't capable of that love - she was sure that he'd loved before, it was that he wouldn't allow himself to feel it with her.

He'd once told her that he had taken lives and that it'd changed him. Maybe this is how he meant. He claimed to love humanity so much - always so fascinated by them, and yet, Rose mused, he'd never allowed himself to get close to anyone. To truly connect with a human being on an intimate level. Maybe it really had just been too long for him - maybe he had finally forgot how necessary it was to have family, how precious it was, how the loss of them was so close to unbearable, Rose didn't know how she was going to go on.

They flew back and forth through time and space all the time on a whim - he'd even taken her back that one time to be with her father, and yes, she'd messed up - but she hadn't asked for anything since. And now she was begging him to do this one little thing for her, this last thing - she'd never bother him again after this - he had to know that.

But still, he refused.

This though - her Mum, and Mickey - they weren't just anybody - not to her. For the first time - she didn't recognize the man in front of her - this Time Lord. How could anyone stand there and deny her this one thing - on principle?

It would have shocked her how quickly she became angry, but the rage pouring over her hit her like a flash of lightening, and she was suddenly all hands and fists, lashing out at him - assaulting him with horrible things and telling him to put God knows what - where.

Grabbing her wrists, he staved her off, yelling, "Rose! Rose, stop!" As she now tried to release her wrists from his tight grip. Pushing and pulling, she screamed at him to let go.

"No! Let go! Let me go, Doctor! I hate you, I hate you!" She wailed.

He quickly released her and she stumbled back - her eyes wide and filled with contempt, his with horror and apology.

"Rose," he said helplessly, his hands held in front of him in surrender as he took a weary step back from her, giving her some space.

Walking away from him, she turned to him and spat, "I don't want to be here - this isn't my home! I want to be home with my Mum! You took me from her! This is all your fault! And look at you - you don't even care!"

"Rose..." The Doctor interrupted.

"NO! I don't want to hear it! I thought you cared about me! I thought you of all people would understand that I need them - you, who charmed me into leavin' them in the first place. I never thought you were selfish because I knew you were lonely yourself. I honestly thought to myself, 'How can someone so desperate for companionship be selfish for it?' I never thought that once I agreed, you'd shut me out. Why do you think I agreed in the first place? Because you didn't have anybody and I wanted to be that somebody to you!"

The Doctor looked completely shattered. His arms were stretched out on the table, his weight upon them heavily as he turned his head to look at Rose.

"Do you even feel anymore? Can you? Are you even capable of understandin' what I'm feeling? Or has it been too long for you? All you do is shut me out, every time you remotely feel somethin'. You're there - I see you, and yet, you are somewhere else, all the time. I've waited - I've been so patient. He'll talk to me the next time... Eventually, he'll come around. I know he likes me, he'll open up one of these days, Rose, if I continue to be here and stay supportive. But you never do! You never acknowledge that I'm here to stay. That I'm nothing more than a passing companion.

I'm not just another companion, Doctor! Someone else to give you an excuse to keep thinkin' of new things to do. I am more than that."

Rose's anger fueled her further, and now that she'd begun, she didn't think she'd be able to stop. The rage she now felt was thrumming through her veins, and he was just standing there, eyes wide in panic, with his mouth twisted in an unpleasant horror. Half-sobbing, half screaming, she continued to scream at him, delivering blow after painful blow - needing to get it out, needing to make him hurt, needing him to feel her suffering.

"And you stand there and offer me a home here? How can I have a home here? A home has people who care about you and has people who open up to you and talk to you about things. Can't you remember? You had a home once. Or were your people too alien for the concept of home?"

"Rose!" He gasped, his acrimony on edge and his eyes dark, furious. She could see glimpses of the danger underneath - the alien Time Lord within the shell of a man.

"The TARDIS isn't warm - it's cold and clinical, and it's because you've made it that way. You are so lost and you don't even know it. I'm standing right here - I've been here all along and you've shut me out and held me at arms length, the whole time I've been on board. You stand there and you comfort me and you tell me you understand, but you know what? I don't think you really do. At least, not anymore. Because if you did, you'd understand how much you've hurt me - been hurting me all along by not lettin' me in. Don't you ever stop to think, Doctor? About all the people who've been hurt because of how you shut them out? In your long life, I can't be the first, as much as I loathe to admit that! How many companions have you had that you just dumped off one day after you tired of their company? Did you ever stop to think about them and how they felt about you? How they felt after you left them?"

The Doctor gripped the table's edges, his knuckles turning white against the strain. His chin trembled, but his eyes remained fierce. Rose wasn't shouting anymore, she was weeping. Crying out in desperation to hurt him as she hurt. Did he know what she was doing? Did he understand that she needed to lash out, that she was angry - and that he was simply there?

"How many people have died because of you? How many people have died because you didn't go back and change things? How many of those times were absolutely necessary? Why did those people deserve to die because you decided it had to be? What possible future disaster can be prevented because my mum and my best friend died?"

Rose paused to take a breath, feeling lightheaded. It was shaky and she felt ill.

"You've probably never even thought about it - no, because you're always going so fast, never allowing yourself the possibility of even considering, to even think. Not so much about that person's life, but of the lives who needed that person. Their families. When you save someone, it's not just saving them - allowing them a lifetime to live. It's saving their families and people who loved them. Because that's all we humans have. We have each other. And you have no idea how much you've hurt me by not helpin' me. You, who go around "helping" people. But not Rose. Never Rose. She's just my travelin' mate. Not friend, because that would mean I'd actually have to let her in - let her get to know me. But that's alright, because I'm a fucking Time Lord who doesn't have to open up to anybody. I don't need friends or family or anyone because I'm alone."

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath, and his chin trembled. But he said nothing to her, didn't respond, didn't look at her. It just made her angrier. The coward. He couldn't even face her - didn't even care enough to even respond to her.

"You let everyone see just how lonely your existence is, just how hard and horrible and alone it's been for you - and you get them to fall in love with you, let them want to be with you - and then you shut them out."

The silence that fell between them was deafening.

"Why did you have to do it to me?" Rose's soft voice broke as the Doctor finally looked up at her. There was complete and utter silence between them now.

"Rose," he started. "I never meant..."

"Do I mean so little to you? How could you do it? I thought you and me were..." The Doctor took a step towards her direction, his face tormented with the truth behind her angered words.

Rose took a deep breath, shaky as it was before finally whispering, "I love you, Doctor."

The Doctor stood shock still, waiting...

"And I wish I'd never met you."

And without sparing another glance at his stricken and guilt-filled expression, she ran out of the TARDIS, slamming the door, ran to her Mum's room, and curled up on the bed, sobbing her heart out.


	4. My soul aches with an emptiness

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything in the Who or Torchwood universe - I only wish I did. Nothing belongs to me, everything belongs to the creators. I just like to play around in the universe. :)**

**A very special thank you to Liv16 for being the greatest beta I could ever have hoped to meet and work with, who is a constant source of help, suggestion, and inspiration, and without whom I would be lost. Also, many sincere thanks to The Plaid Slytherin, who helped me to make the most of my first DW fan fiction story.**

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy. Reviews very welcome!**

**...**

**"Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break." - William Shakespeare**

**...**

They sat side by side on the floor of the cold cell, both experiencing an odd combination of extreme stress and extreme boredom. Every once in a while, footsteps would come near and pause at the edge of the bars; struggle as they might to see what was looking back at them, they were terribly unsuccessful. Whomever or whatever was on the outside never spoke, never came in, never did anything - just waited, watching them. The room was pitch black and cold, and during those moments where the fear was incredible, terrifying and heightened, they would grab for the other and clasp hands, holding their breath as if to try and not give away their place in the dark.

"Shh... I heard something," she whispered, her voice raising an octave in fear.

He only reached for her hand once again, wrapping his fingers securely around hers and tried to offer her some sort of comfort, although any he'd felt for himself was sorely lacking.

"It'll be okay. He'll come for us." He tried to reassure himself as much as her. "She'll make sure of it."

He could feel her nod against his shoulder, too afraid to speak.

A pair of footsteps drew nearer, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

...

He hadn't come after her. Hadn't followed her.

Rose wasn't sure if she felt relieved or disquieted about that. She was worried, that much was for sure. The things she'd said, the things she'd meant behind what she'd said - they haunted her, even so soon after the fact. Immediately in fact, she had regretted it. From the moment she slammed the door and broke down on the bed, she'd realized what she'd done and what she'd said and had cried all the more for having been able to even say those things, much less mean half of them.

What kind of person was she? What kind of person told another person those horrible and tormenting things? She'd hurt the Doctor - deeply, and she knew it. It had been etched all over his face, and he'd not once raised his voice to her, or had given as good as she gave. He'd just stood there, hunched over the table, not looking at her, and had allowed her to say what she needed to say. Had acted to an extent like he even deserved to hear those things, which broke Rose's heart all the more. Why hadn't he fought back? Why hadn't he made her stop?

Sure, he'd tried to speak - to argue with her, but she hadn't let him interrupt her tirade. She had just lost it, too sad to think of his feelings, too angry to care, and she'd tried to hurt him as she hurt. It wasn't right, what she did. Wasn't right at all.

And she didn't have a clue as to how to fix it. Rose had never felt afraid of the Doctor, never uncomfortable or awkward. She'd always stuck to him like a magnet, relishing the feel of his presence near hers. But now, she felt terrified to face him. Afraid that what she'd said was so unforgivable that he'd have nothing to do with her now. Afraid that he wouldn't be able to forgive her. Afraid that at any minute, she would hear the engines of the TARDIS - that he would leave her once and for all, without saying goodbye.

What must he think of her now? Would he leave her?

The thought alone brought her to her feet and she rushed to the door, suddenly desperate to make things right, to apologize - he couldn't leave her. She needed him. She loved him.

Yanking the door open, Rose almost had a heart attack as she saw him on the other side.

He was sitting across from her door, leaning against the hallway that led to the living room, hands resting on his knees as he stared up at her, his eyes so intense she couldn't hold his gaze for more than a moment. She'd been wrong - he had come after her - had been waiting for her.

Rose stared at his trainers.

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice rough and shaken.

Her eyes flew to his. He looked completely calm, and yet, the way he looked at her brought shivers up her spine.

Nodding timidly, she stepped back into her mum's room and watched as he stood up. Despite her efforts to be calm, her heart was racing in her chest. Following her into the room, he shut the door quietly behind him.

Neither of them spoke for a long while. The Doctor didn't turn away from the door and Rose refused to look at him.

"Rose, I..."

"Doctor, wha..." She blushed as they both spoke at the same time.

Turning around, the Doctor gave Rose a stressed look as he pushed his hand through his hair. He walked over to her and knelt down beside where she was sitting on the bed, his hands coming to rest on the blanket near her thigh. His eyes shone with self-condemnation as he met hers and she fought the urge to cover her ears before he even began.

"I know that things are...difficult right now, Rose, and I'm sorry... more sorry than you can ever know." It was unlike him to stumble over his words. "I know that losing your mum and Mickey like that - so quickly -"

Rose turned away from him. Feeling the warmth of his hand against her cheek, a gentle caress, she turned into it slightly, before the feeling left her. Her eyes widened in fear as she realized his hands were still on the comforter - he hadn't just been touching her. Confused, she lifted a hand to her cheek, trying to discern what she'd just felt.

He cleared his throat and reached for her hands, pulling it down from her cheek and forcing her to look at him. His hands were shaking, cold and clammy, very unlike the hand she's just felt against her cheek.

"I'm sorry that this is hard for you to understand, being with me and the TARDIS, but they are gone, Rose. Their time came and they lived and it was brilliant. But there is nothing I can do to change the fact that their time has passed."

She swallowed thickly before whispering, "But the TARDIS is a time machine."

He looked at her with such sorrow. "I know, and I'm sorry that it makes this so much harder for you to accept. But it doesn't change anything. The time machine doesn't stop real time from happening, it simply doesn't exist at the time when it occurred. Whether we go back at a different time or not, it doesn't change the fact that real time happened. And in that real time, your mum and Mickey were killed."

Mournfully she asked, her voice bleak and desolate. "You really won't go back and save my mum and Mickey?"

The Doctor shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm sorry, Rose, but no. I can't. There are rules." He was cruelly firm and Rose couldn't accept it.

She jumped up, then, furiously pushing his hands away from hers. "Rules! What rules? What do I care about the rules! This is my family, we're talking about! Why are you bringing up rules?"

"Rose..."

"NO! Why do you get to make the rules? Who gave your people the right to make 'em up for the entire universe? Why do they even matter to you, Doctor?" He opened his mouth, but she ranted on, ruthlessly.

"Your people are gone! Your planet is gone!"

The Doctor stood, looking at her sharply, and still she continued. "You destroyed them to protect the universe. They were going to destroy everyone and you stopped them. You told me! You did it for us, to save us." Her voice broke, and she softly managed, "If you can save the universe, why can't you save mine?"

He took in a long breath and let it out, before answering her. When he did, his voice was flat and careful.

"Rose, you don't know what you are talking about - you don't understand what you are asking me to do." She could tell he was getting angry. She was bringing up things she should never bring up, speaking of things she had no business to speak of. But she needed to say them - they needed to be said.

"Yes, I do. I need them, don't you see? More than anything, I need her. She's all I've got! My whole family - she's everything to me."

"I understand how you feel, Rose, but..." He was trying to remain calm, trying to remain unaffected. It made her want to slap him, to make him see reason.

Harshly, she yelled, "How could you? You say you understand - but how could you? If you did, you'd understand. You would fix this. It's what you do - it's why you're the Doctor. You fix things. You can't possibly know how I feel right now because if you did... if you knew how this..."

She couldn't stop the cruel things that came out of her mouth. Horrible things that she'd never even thought before - but they were all too clear as she screamed them at the Doctor.

"How could you even remember how it feels - you lost your family hundreds of years ago! You've had time! You've had more time because you're a Time Lord! Your people live for freakin' ever! Human life is short. Don't you ever tell me you understand how I feel."

"But facing death is part of being human. You can't change that." His words were short, clipped, and cold, as he stood in front of her, meeting her glare for glare.

Rose gaped.

"Don't you talk to me about being human! You aren't human no matter how much you want to be - how much you pretend to be - and you never will be, so don't even presume you know what it's like."

He sucked in a huge breath and took a step back from her, eyes wide as he stared at her as if she'd slapped him 'across the face. She'd finally gotten through to him - had hurt him again with the sting of her words. He wouldn't look at her with cold distancing again - no, he was letting all the hurt and grief pour out of his soul and onto her.

Stepping away, she cried out horrified, falling to her knees as she clutched at her chest, the anger and guilt finally consuming her. Feeling bowed down by the all too heavy emotional weight, she cried, "I feel like I'm breaking in two - like there's nothing left of me to even be!"

She was crying too hard now to speak and he was gulping in such huge breaths of air - it was all either of them could do to stay in the same room together. Pain and hurt and anger - the air was so thick with it. Rose felt like it had gotten inside her head, inside her mouth - she could taste it...touch it...

She felt the pain in her heart as well - it was crushing her. The knowledge that she'd said such horrible and awful things to him crawled into her soul and pulled, splitting it apart. She was mortified, and it was too late to take the words back. He'd heard and felt every horrible thing she'd screamed at him and she didn't even know how to begin to apologize. She could almost see the waves of panic, hurt, and resentment erupting from him.

Gulping and wiping her nose on her sleeve, she looked at him suddenly. He was deathly still, shaking with barely suppressed rage.

She had said too much. Again.

"Doctor, I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"Don't." He couldn't look at her, his voice hard.

"I'm sorry."

"I need...I just... Rose, I need to be away from you..." Breathing roughly, he turned on the spot and walked out, leaving the door open in his wake.

She'd gone too far. She knew it. She'd delved into her pain and pushed it onto him and - Oh, God - the things she had said. How could she have gone so far? How could she have said such things to him again?

She ran after him, trying to catch up with him before the TARDIS changed its halls and she got lost. He was on the deck, leaning against the console struggling to control his breathing. His face was contorted in agony and his hand was yanking at his tie - trying to loosen it from his neck.

Tears ran down her face as she ran up behind him, needing him to turn around and look at her like he used to. With love and compassion and understanding. She couldn't bear it if he turned to her with cold, hate-filled eyes.

The Doctor spun around before she could reach him and before she knew it, he was standing over her, eyes wild and desperate, grabbing hold of her as he shook her. His fingers pressed punishingly against her pale skin, and she couldn't help but let out a small gasp of fright as they sunk into her muscle, as if trying to reach for her bones.

"How could you think I wouldn't want to...That I wouldn't go back if I could?" He asked, furiously. "Why can't you understand?"

Rose whimpered in pain and fear as his fingers now clawed into her skin.

Realising how roughly he was holding her, he looked at himself with a mixture of horror and disgust before dropping his arms quickly, as he moved away from her, leaving Rose feeling cold and empty.

Rose took a step back from him, watching him warily. She'd never seen him like this before. It was unnerving and utterly terrifying.

Running a hand through his hair, he turned to her once again, his eyes deep and endless and suffering, as he pushed through all of his grief and heartache to focus on his anger. "Don't you think I would bring them back if I could? That I would save my people if I could? That I wouldn't give up both of my hearts if it were possible?" His voice cracked and broke and instead of completely breaking down and giving in to the hurt, he forcibly stomped around the control panel, hitting buttons furiously and pulling levels with reckless derangement.

"But I can't, because of the rules that are set. I can't!" he yelled angrily, perilously. "If I go back and save them, then everything changes. The universe as we know it wouldn't exist - you, Rose - may not exist! And it might not be for the better! Did you ever think about that?"

She took another wary step back, away from him. His movements were fluid and controlled, and yet furious and aggressive. She'd never seen him so upset. She knew she'd caused him to act this way, but right now - he terrified her more than anything ever had before.

"I could so easily make everything worse - horrible, in fact! Sometimes, it's not a matter of if someones too small or unimportant that they don't matter - everyone matters. You think Jackie doesn't matter? Or Mickey? Well, they do matter! I keep telling you over and over, how incredible you are, how special each of you are - why does no one ever believe me? We all individually have a time and a place, and it all fits together like a puzzle."

"I do believe you. I'm sorry." Rose stuttered.

"I said don't, Rose." he thundered. "You had your say, and now it's time for me to have mine!"

Rose's heart thudded against her chest.

"I am over 900 years old. Can your mind even wrap around the concept of that? Think about it - 900 years. I've seen more than you can imagine, more than you can dream of, more than you can understand. You think I don't understand what you are asking me to do? Why you are asking me to do it?"

He lowered his voice, more calmly now. "I understand your need for me to go back and save them more than you can know. But you don't seem to understand what might happen if I do."

"I do understand," Rose whispered.

The Doctor looked at her suddenly, curious, horrified, and lost all at once.

Rose walked closer to him, feeling less afraid. "I do understand. And I'm sorry. I really am, Doctor. I'm sorry."

He tilted his head as he studied her, his face still twitching with anger, but forcing himself to be sympathetic - for her.

"I don't know why I said the things I said. I was... upset, I guess. No reason really, other than that." Rose shrugged helplessly. "You were there, and you wouldn't help me, and..."

A single tear fell down her cheek. "I miss her. I don't have anyone left, now."

"I know." He finally replied, quietly. "I'm alone, too. It's not something you ever need to remind me of, Rose." He was still angry, but less so with her apology. He understood grief all too well, to not forgive her.

She felt like she was sinking as everything was finally clicking in her head. Her knees grew weak and she sunk to the floor. Everything was going a bit grey and fuzzy and she laid her head down between her knees. He didn't crawl down to her and comfort her like she wished he would and he would have done before all of this - but he did continue to talk to her.

His voice had gone soft now, much more gently, as he explained to Rose, "Do you remember what I told you when we first met? About the Earth revolving? How I can feel it turning. That's who I am, Rose. I'm not human. I'm a Time Lord - the last of the Time Lords. My people created these rules to keep the universe from collapsing in on itself. So that tomorrow would simply exist! That's why I have to abide by the rules set out by my people."

Rose lifted her head and stared at him as he sunk down in front of her, lifting his hands between the two of them as he frowned down at them.

"I hold the power of gods at my fingertips, and if I start acting the part, the universe could fall into nothing. I don't have the luxury of making exceptions. I don't have anyone else to turn to when I have a problem. I am alone in this, and I am the sole judge of my own actions."

Her breath hitched. The Doctor turned his gaze to her, regarding her seriously, and held her hands tightly.

"My planet's gone. My people are gone - all turned to rocks and dust. It's just me, Rose, and I have to do the best I can, with the time I've got. And I'm sorry. More sorry than you'll ever know, about the decisions I'm forced to live with. Because I know it hurts you. And that kills me, Rose - hurting you. But I can't change time and bring people back to life. I would, if I could. For you, I'd..."

He looked away as he trailed off, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, he focused on her once again. "Rose, I would take you home to Jackie right now if I could, but I'm sorry - it was her time. And Mickey, too.

There's nobody to go back to."

The Doctors shoulders drooped, and for the first time, he looked all 900 years to Rose.

Rose trembled under the Doctor, his words finally reaching her heart. They were dead - her mum, and Mickey, and she wasn't going to see them again.

Leaning forward, she reached for the Doctor, and as he allowed her to pull him into her embrace, she finally let go and wept.

The Doctor held her tightly, and she felt him tremble above her. Mourning together, they both wept for the loss of their loved ones, for the loneliness they each had to live with, and the fact that there was nothing either of them could do to make it better.

Sometimes, like today, the universe was a cruel and unfair existence.

...

He had gently pulled her up after a long while of just sitting on the floor holding each other, and led her to her bedroom. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and felt like she'd been awoken from a deep sleep. Everything was hazy and unfocused, and her eyes were blurry. The hand that led her felt warm, however, and she unconsciously squeezed tighter as if to hold on to him to keep him close. There was an invisible line between the two of them now, a gap that wasn't there before. It made Rose feel wary and uncomfortable and she wasn't sure how to fix it.

Laying her down, he reached for the covers and tucked them up under her chin. He leaned over her and tenderly brushed one of her stray pieces of hair from her forehead, and gave her a sad smile. She tried to smile back, but her face crumbled slightly at the thought of how much she'd hurt him. He gazed at her for a long moment, simply stroking her hair, before standing up. As he turned to leave, her hand caught his and she pulled timidly.

"Please stay." Her voice was soft, but firm. She didn't know what she could say to him, but she knew that she needed to feel him close to her.

The Doctor turned back to her, his eyes dark and unreadable. Things weren't back to normal between the two of them, yet, and there was still a lot of pain and resentment in his expression, but they had begun to heal. She needed him close, now, though. To feel him, tangibly. To know that he was going to forgive her in the end - that he wasn't going to drift further apart from her. So that he would know she wasn't going anywhere either.

"Please?" she begged softly. He reluctantly nodded.

Rose groggily scooted over to make room for him. The bed creaked as he sat on the edge, untying his Converses and pulling them off. Shrugging out of his suit jacket, he threw it over the arm chair across the room. Rose watched, intrigued, as he got ready for bed. This was a side of the Doctor that she hadn't been privileged with seeing before, and she found the humanness of his actions utterly fascinating.

Next came his tie and it landed atop the jacket, before sliding to the floor. He unbuttoned the first few buttons of this dress shirt, untucked it from his trousers, and proceeded to roll up his sleeves to his forearm before leaning back, sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard of Rose's bed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in the dark. "Please forgive me."

Tugging at her lightly, he pulled her into his arms. Relieved, she took him up on the offer, wrapping her arms comfortably around his waist and laying her head down on his chest.

"We'll be okay, Rose," was the only thing he would say. And Rose snuggled against him tightly and sighed, relishing in the comfort he was now offering. The fact that he seemed willing to try and rebuild their relationship for the future was enough for her. His fingers lightly brushed through her hair, playing with the ends before running his fingers through the strands again, before he settled his own chin against her head. Rose found that very soothing, and it wasn't long before she was able to fall into a deep sleep.

...

_Ens rationis; ergo sum cogito..._

_There was Light. The brightest colours all at once, white and blinding, shone from everything in existence._

_Ens rationis; ergo sum cogito... The words repeated, over and over in Rose's mind, and yet, it wasn't a conscious thought. It was innate, from her. Not of this world, and not from this world, but through and through her, from the pits of her soul to the physical touch of her fingers; the light was everywhere, surrounding her, enveloping her._

_Everything that ever was, everything that ever could be - she could see it all. She could see the end of worlds and the beginning of life. She could watch wars and experience death; could see the beginning of the universe, could see shapes take place from the nothingness of space - everything there was to experience in time and space - and it was in her, a part of her._

_More than that, even. It was her._

_More so with every passing moment. The light was so bright, so great, so powerful. Overwhelming, in fact. Rose felt lost - she was losing herself in all of the wonders, all of the sheer magnificence of it all._

_The heat was volcanic, exploding bit by bit into her mind, from her mind. It was everywhere and uncontrollable. She was losing herself, drowning, burning, dying. She was being born and she wasn't in existence. It was too much, too fast, too furious._

_It was all she could do to cling, to reach forward and grasp the arms of the person who could make it better. Those arms that would wrap her up and keep her safe, keep her grounded, keep her sane._

_Blindly and desperately, she reached for those arms - reached for her Doctor._

_"Doctor!" she screamed._

_But the illumination was so bright, so hot, and she couldn't see to find him. Couldn't feel him or grasp for him._

_The agony lit in her like a flame, and she was shrieking in horror, crying out his name, screaming for help, 'Doctor! Doctor!"_

_He wasn't there, he wasn't reachable. Her screams echoed into the hallows of the universe, the knowledge of the power she held in her mind - the light was too much, it was killing her._

_Her head hurt, it burned._

_"Doctor!" she cried into nothingness, her worst fear making itself known. "DOCTOR!"_

_The luminescence flashed and then pulsed, growing, and growing..._

...

"Wake up, Rose. Wake up, now." The Doctor was shaking her roughly. "That's it - open your eyes. I'm here, you're safe. I've got you."

Rose's throat burned; it felt raw. She whimpered as his arms wrapped around her, the memories of the dream still haunting her, still making her want to scream and cry and be physically sick. Clamping her arms around him, she buried her head into his chest, sobbing softly. Trying to concentrate on the gentle sensations his fingers on her neck produced, she worked to control her trembling.

He was silent as he held her, doing his best to relax her, with repetitious movements of his caresses against her upper back, shoulders, and neck.

"Tell me about the dream," he spoke into her hair.

"It was so much, Doctor," she wept. "There was this light and it was everywhere and I could see everything!"

"Shh, Rose." He murmured quietly. "It was just a dream. You're safe now."

She sobbed. "It felt so real, so tangible."

"Most nightmares do." His voice was soft, patient and understanding - as he always was.

"But I don't hav' nightmares, Doctor. Haven't had any since I was a kid. Not any that I remember, anyway."

"Well, anyone can have nightmares - it's not something you really outgrow." The Doctor let out a long sigh.

"What? Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Have nightmares?"

He nodded, once. "Nightmares usually present themselves when one is emotionally or physically stressed by something. You've more than enough reason to have nightmares right now."

She found herself nodding, miserably.

"You saw a light?" He asked, and she could almost hear the frown on his face.

"Yeah - it was everywhere. And hot. It felt like I was bein' burned up or somethin'."

"Were you standing on a sun or type of supernova?" The Doctor asked, curiously.

"No, not exactly. At least, I don't think so. No, it was in me, or on me. The light, that is. And you were there."

"I was?" His voice had lost the curious nature to it, and he seemed a lot more serious all of a sudden.

"I couldn't reach you - I tried to call you, but you slipped away."

"Probably went to go find my sunglasses."

Rose grinned. "Oh, shut it, you."

"It's not my fault you didn't bring a pair of your own to put on!" He protested, his voice lightening considerably.

"I'll try to remember the next time I am stuck in a nightmare to grab my shades first."

"That's a girl." He pulled her back, so that they both could lay side by side again, facing each other. She reached out and grabbed his hand, not ready to lose all contact with him yet.

"Doctor?" She asked timidly.

"Yes, Rose?"

""I want to take care of the funeral home tomorrow."

"I'll get us there in the morning, then." The Doctor replied, softly. "For now, why don't you just sleep. I think you need it."

Rose chuckled sleepily. "Doctor's orders?"

She could hear the amusement in his reply. "Doctor's orders."

"Nighty night, Rose." He murmured. She closed her eyes as his lips raised, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Moving her own lips up, she brushed her own against his in a quick peck before settling down into the covers and moving closely to him once more.

...

As tired as she was, when she had drifted off to sleep, she hadn't gotten much sleep. Tossing and turning, with the added bonus of a horrific nightmare, that still made her tremble when she thought back on it, had left Rose not only wide awake, but feeling restless.

Finishing her shower, she pulled on some clean jeans and her favorite pink hoodie before toeing into her shoes. Grabbing her worn leather bag, she went to find the Doctor. It was time.

Finding him was easy - he was on the deck as usual - his legs propped up as he studied one of his leather journals again. He glanced up, hearing her footsteps against the metal grate. She waved hello rather than voiced it.

Setting down his book, he waved back at her, obviously taking note of her fresh appearance and determined expression. Hopping from the bench, he strolled towards her in a few long strides, and reached behind her as he grabbed his long brown coat from where it had been resting on the TARDIS.

She looked at him. "We're here already?" Her voice shook.

Nodding as he pulled his arm into the sleeve he said, "I thought it would be better if we were already here when the time came. I've already double checked the time and date - made sure everything was correct. We've only been gone for a little over a day since..." He trailed off.

She nodded. He didn't have to say any more. She knew what he was referring to.

Gathering her courage, she faced the doors leading to the outside world, and paused, dragging in long breath. She almost turned away from it, changing her mind, as terror filled her.

And then his hand was grasping hers tightly, anchoring her down - reminding her that she didn't have to do it by herself.

Glancing at him, she softened as she saw him waiting patiently for her. Not pushing her or rushing her. Letting her know that it was completely up to her, and that he would wait for her to be ready. Looking at him revitalized her confidence, and before she gave another thought to the doubt and fear clouding her mind, she squared her shoulders and quickly pushed open the door, walking outside.

It was bright - cheerfully bright, in fact. Rose squinted against the harsh glare to try and take in her surroundings.

The TARDIS had landed in the parking lot of the funeral home, it seemed. Steeling herself, Rose clung to the Doctor as they walked hand in hand towards the massive building. It was an attractive building and not at all depressing and gloomy, as Rose thought it should have been. That, combined with the cheerfulness of the sunny day, set Rose in a foul mood from the get-go. For some reason, she really felt that the weather should portray how she felt, and she was a bit miffed at it's audacity.

Stepping inside as the Doctor held open the door for her, Rose was a little taken back by how...sterile it felt. The building itself seemed unaffected, unemotional, and standoffish. It was quite off-putting and if the Doctor hadn't kept a firm hand on the curve of her back, she wasn't sure she could stay there for more than a moment, as it felt torturous. This was one of the reasons she avoided hospitals at all costs. Hospitals were supposed to be a place of healing and warmth, and all she ever felt there was a cold, sterile, hollowness. She'd only had to visit a hospital a few times, and it had long been decided that those times were a few too many already.

Rose supposed, with as much death as the building had seen, maybe it was for the best that it didn't feel warm and inviting. She couldn't imagine wanting to come here ever again.

There were potted floral arrangements and elegant armchairs, positioned in groups of four facing each other. Between every two chairs was a table, with a box of tissues and a Bible. Rose would never say that it felt inviting, but there was a sense of elegance to the design.

The Doctor steered her towards the front desk, and it wasn't long before Rose found herself hand in hand with the handsomely dressed, older gentleman with a slightly balding head and a heavy-set physique, who was giving her his warmest condolences.

"Oh..." Rose stammered. "Thank you."

Her eyes fell to the floor and she felt an arm reach around her, squeezing tightly, before she was gently led to an office. She felt very strange, not dizzy per-say, but definitely not clear. Her thoughts were muddled and she was having great difficulty, focusing on any one thing the older gentleman was saying. He was talking, and she would find herself studying the carpet - trying to see if she could spot a piece of lint, or noticing how smooth the leather was on the binder he had given her, containing all of the different paperwork they were going through.

The day seemed very long once she and the Doctor were inside. In reality, they weren't there for more than a few hours, but by the end of finalizing all of the funeral details for both her Mum and Mickey, Rose felt completely drained, as if she'd recovered from the flu only to come down with pneumonia - and then had to run a marathon.

She should have expected that along with formalizing her mother's ceremony, she also would be providing Mickey's. And yet, it surprised her and once again when his burial information was put in front of her and all at once she felt caught off guard and insecure. All over again, she was experiencing the shock and horror of finding out that they'd been killed. She couldn't help but wonder when she would stop being surprised by their deaths. Every time she thought about it, it felt so new and so raw - she experienced it over and over again, and it never really pitted to the bottom of her stomach, rather, stayed churning, over and over again until she felt sick from the fresh agony of it all.

Rose decided in the end, that a joint funeral would be preferable. They were both family, after all, and it wasn't like Mickey had anyone else either. Besides, she wasn't convinced that once she made it through one, that she'd ever be ready to begin the next. No, better to get them both done together - and then be done with it.

Rose sniffled and wiped her eyes. It was unfair that the two people most important to her in the world, didn't have anyone other than her as family. She felt guiltier with each passing moment,as she struggled not to think of how she'd up and abandoned both her Mum and Mickey for adventures with the Doctor. Feeling guiltier still, she worried if every decision she made in regards to their funeral was one that they would even actually want. It was beyond stressful, trying to think of music that fit each person, and figuring out what to say on the graves. It was one time, and forever, and she was making their last decisions, and it tugged relentlessly at her heart that she was the one having to make these choices.

Her grandparents had died when Rose was just a baby - she never even knew them, and Mickey's gran - all that he had left - had died a few years ago, leaving him nowhere to go but to Jackie. Not that she minded any - she'd thought of him as a son for long enough. Luckily, for both of them, they had a unique relationship with each other and lived well together.

There would be separate burials, in the end, Rose decided. She felt that Mickey deserved to be buried near his Gran - he would have liked that. It felt... right, for him.

And Mum would be buried next to Dad. She had purchased their side-by-side plots years ago, after Dad had been killed, and so that decision had been made easy.

Finally, standing up and shaking hands once more with the gentleman in the suit, Rose was relieved that the worst of it was over. It was done, and she didn't have to ever go back and redo this day. Once in a lifetime, was one too many times already.

Weakly, she leaned against the Doctor as he led her back to the TARDIS. He was quiet, somber even. He seemed to know that she needed it quiet around her, as she was battling an internal war within herself. Insecurities that she thought were gone and buried were pushing their way to the front of her mind, and she felt helpless to ward them off. Giving in, she slumped against him, feeling so close to tears that she could barely concentrate on trying to decide if she'd made the right decisions or not.

She had leaned heavily on him all day - turning to him whenever something confused her, asking him for an explanation, or when she simply needed a moment's comfort, which he had more than provided for her by giving her a warm hug, or squeezing her hand gently. He'd remained very affectionate towards her, seeming to understand her constant need to feel his presence.

The Doctor answered questions when she wasn't able to, and had been overwhelmingly patient with her when she was making the decisions that had to be made - letting her take the time she needed to answer the difficult questions asked of her - even going so far as to escort the kind gentlemen outside for a few moments when she was overcome with emotions by the difficulty of the decisions. Twice, that had happened, and she'd been ever so grateful as he calmly waited by the door, giving her the moment she needed to compose herself to continue. He'd been so understanding about her tears, never berating her about them, or shying away from them. A few times, he'd even grabbed the handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her cheeks for her.

She was ever so grateful to him, glad that she didn't have to go through it all alone. She couldn't even imagine what that might have been like.

Luckily, her Mum had made a few smart decisions when it came to her minimal funds, and there was more than enough to cover both funerals and further costs. For this, Rose felt relieved. Going through it was hard enough - she was grateful that the money was one thing she didn't have to worry about.

The flowers had been easy as well. Her mother had always loved roses - hence Rose's name. Pink and yellow were her favorites, and Rose felt they were appropriate. Her mother would've wanted the little bit of light happiness in the midst of all the gloom. Rose's spirit lifted slightly as she thought of the numerous times her Mum had cracked a joke, in the most inappropriate moments... she just had that way about her. Maybe she came across a bit simple at times, to others, but Rose knew it was just her way of making light of a more serious situation.

She'd chosen white roses for Mickey - deciding that the elegance of them was suiting for her best friend. Simple and constant, beautiful and yet easygoing - they were meaningful to her, and she thought they fit properly.

"I'll go and put on some tea," the Doctor pulled her out of her thoughts, as he asked, more than stated this to her, as he rubbed her back soothingly.

"Yeah, that sounds good," she replied, taking a step back from him to allow him to open the TARDIS and walk inside.

He clamored inside, pulling off his coat and throwing it against the TARDIS walkway as he walked towards the galley. Finding nothing better to do to occupy herself for a few moments, Rose reluctantly followed him, shuffling her feet to give herself a little time alone to try and make order within herself. It was of no use. She couldn't form a single coherent thought and being able to focus was simply an overwhelming task that yet again, she wasn't ready to deal with, yet.

Pushing aside her annoyance at that, she pulled a chair out from the table and plopped down in it, pulling her elbows up in front of her and dropped her face in her hands.

"I don't know what I'm doin'," she groaned to him. "I can't make sense of this."

"Sugar?" he asked.

"Yeah, okay." Rose replied into her palms.

"If it makes you feel better, there isn't a 'right way to do this,'" he told her as he stirred her mug with a spoon. "You're doing fine."

"I feel like I'm completely muckin' things up, though," she moaned.

"What things?" He questioned her. "You took care of everything today. You made all of the decisions that needed deciding. I think you handled yourself brilliantly, despite the circumstances."

The Doctor set the steaming mug down in front of her and sat across from her, drawing a long sip from his own cup. His shoulders stooped as he studied her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, full of caring and ease and exuding comfort.

"About what?" She questioned, finally glancing up at him.

"About... anything?" He was vague, but his eyes were serious.

"There's nothing to talk about." She said, tonelessly. "They died. I've arranged the funeral. It's all set - it's tomorrow. We'll go."

He nodded slowly.

"You'll go with me?" She asked, suddenly unsure.

"Of course I will." He didn't hesitate.

She felt something inside her relax - Rose hadn't even realized that his presence at the funeral was something she was even concerned about. He'd been there for her today, hadn't he? Held her hand all day long? Gotten her through the worst of it? Rose honestly didn't know why she was suddenly insecure that he might not be there for her. She'd never doubted him before, but now, she was finding herself needing more confirmation from him that usual.

She was surprised at what she was feeling anxious about these days, too. It wasn't like her to worry about small things - she was always so gung-ho about decisions... Rose felt like she was starting to lose grasp of who she was, of who she knew herself to be.

It was very disconcerting, and felt enormously stressful. But then again, so did mostly everything at the moment.

A thought suddenly occurred to her, "Have you ever done this before?"

"What?"

"Funerals... dealin' with... all this." She felt inarticulate.

He was quite a long time before replying, "No."

"No?" She didn't know why she was surprised.

"I never got the chance to... There was never any time..." He pulled at his hair as he struggled. "Because of the Time Lock..."

"I understand."

His hands dropped back to his mug. "I haven't really stayed in one place long enough to get close to people - it's part of why I don't - I don't like dealing with... I'm not good at..." He trailed off.

She covered his hand with her own and squeezed gently.

"I know." She said. "I don't know why I asked."

"It's alright to ask."

She looked at him seriously. "It's alright not to answer."

Taking a moment to simply look at each other, they didn't talk further, because it was unnecessary. They both know what the other was feeling and thinking.

"Thank you for today," she said softly, picking at her fingernail.

He grimaced. "You don't need to thank me."

"But I want to. It meant a lot to me to have you there. That you were there." She took a sip of her tea. "I couldn't have made it through if I'd had to do it alone."

The Doctor swallowed, making his Adam's apple move in a way that made him look oddly vulnerable. Opening his mouth as if to speak, he then stopped and simply stood up and made his way over to her.

Following his every move closely, she felt her breath quicken as he knelt beside her and cradled her cheek against the palm of his hand.

"Naw...you would've been fine." He leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead and she sighed.

"Thank you anyway."

He smiled sweetly as he stood up and walked back towards the sink. "Anytime."

Rose watched as he leaned in towards the sink, washing out his mug, his fingers moving quickly over the ceramic as he gently gave it his full attention. She still felt the warmth from his lips on her forehead. Very tentatively, she reached up and touched the place where his lips had left her, and smiled.

Overcome with a great need to be close to him, to fill in the gap that had been there the previous day, she stood and her body moved towards him before a single thought entered her mind. She suddenly needed to feel him - all of him - needed to touch him and have him hold her close. It was quite sudden and very powerful, this feeling.

Quickly making her way to him, she paused only for a moment, to try and decide if she should touch him or not. Her need was too great, though. She needed him to make her feel, to take away this burning emptiness she suddenly found herself in - needed him to take the pain away, even for a second.

Timidly, unsure if he would even allow her to touch him like this, she slowly wrapped her arms around his chest, pulling herself as tightly against his back as she could. Desperate to feel him against her, she was unable to stop herself. Rose held her breath as she waited for him to push her away - waited for him to distance himself from her... But he didn't.

His hands covered hers, still a bit damp, as he relaxed against her embrace. Rose couldn't quite believe he was letting her get this close, and was so thankful for it. She tugged at him harder, closing her eyes and let her head fall against his shoulders, as she willed the tension to leave her body.

She needed more - she was becoming desperate.

The Doctor sighed softly before pulling her hands away from his body. Rose almost cried out, but before she managed, he had turned around to face her, pulling her full against his body - his strong arms securing her tightly. She struggled with the tightness she felt in her chest as she pulled herself even further into his embrace. He seemed to understand what she needed more than she did, because before long, he was rubbing small circles against her back and whispering into her neck words of encouragement and support.

She felt weak against his strong hold. So weak, in fact, that she was humbled by the sheer force of power she felt radiating from him. So quickly she forgot what a God-like force he was to be reckoned with, and for him - this incredibly powerful being - to hold and support her...

She was nothing. She knew that. Here was this legend, this giant - here was the man who humbled her again and again. Forever impressed by his ability to focus on a problem and fix it, always in awe of his ability to keep an educated head. For him to hold her this tightly, like he needed her as desperately as she needed him - it was too much.

Rose sighed against him as she listened to his steady breathing. His lips were in her hair, and she trembled.

Very slowly the mood seemed to change - she was becoming achingly aware of his body pressed against her and swallowed nervously as he continued to hold her. Rose couldn't quite believe he was holding her quite this long, with so much feeling. She felt it in waves, his comfort, his trepidation, his...distraction.

Wait. His distraction? Rose pulled away quickly. Where had that come from?

He looked at her confusedly, letting his arms drop lightly to his sides.

"Rose?" His eyes were wide.

"I...I'm sorry." She stammered.

"What? Why?" He asked carefully.

"I don't know what's wrong with me!" She cried. "I'm just all over the place. One minute I'm fine and the next, I feel like I'm drowning and can't breathe - and then I'm hugging you and you feel so good..."

The Doctor looked flabbergasted.

"I felt you...in my head." Rose frowned.

"You what?" He asked, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"I felt you comfort me."

"Well, yeah...I was holding you in my arms." The Doctor was now looking at her with unconcealed concern.

"No. Yes. I mean, not like that." Rose desperately tried to explain it. "I felt your comfort; coming to me in waves. I felt how concerned you felt for me, how nervous you felt about letting me get that close to you... and..."

"And?" He asked, darkly.

"And... other things." Rose shied away from his steady gaze.

The Doctor simply stared at her, as if she'd grown another head. Rubbing his hands together decisively, he grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and started ushering her out of the kitchen.

"You're just tired, you are. Rightly so, in fact - look at the time. Been a long day, it has."

"There's no clock to look at, Doctor." Rose said a bit scornfully, as she glanced around the room.

"Good thing you've got a handy Time Lord at your service," he said with a wink. "Now, off to bed with you. You're overtired, and so am I, and we both just need some sleep."

Rose fidgeted to a stop, not budging another inch as she looked at her shoes.

He was already heading out the door, but he stopped as soon as the words left her mouth. "Doctor, I'm scared."

The TARDIS hummed quietly, steadily.

"I know," was all he said. "But I'm right here."

"Are you?" She asked, feeling brave.

He turned towards her once more, giving her an unreadable expression. Then, he slowly turned away from her and walked away, into the shadows of the TARDIS.

Rose followed, turning left and walking down the long narrow hallway. Her bedroom seemed farther than usual, and by the time she entered, she felt completely exhausted. She kicked off her shoes and yanked off her jeans, not even bothering to undress further and slipped into bed. Mind reeling, she fell asleep remembering fondly his body pressed up against hers, and the safety she felt in his arms.

Pushing aside all negative thoughts, all bad thoughts, and all nightmares, for the first time in a long while, Rose fell asleep feeling content and at peace.

...

"You leave him alone, you bastard!" She screamed, clutching at the bars in desperation. "Don't you touch a hair on his head!"

"Or you'll do what?" He sneered.

"Oh, you don't wanna know what I'm capable of, Mister."

He laughed, cruelly. Another cry of agony made it's way across the cell, and she was terrified for him.

"He'll come, you know." She put on a brave front.

"Who will come?" He sneered.

"The Doctor. He'll come and save us. Him, and my..."

"Your what?"

"My Rose."

...


	5. that will forever torture,

**...**

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything in the Who or Torchwood universe - I only wish I did. Nothing belongs to me, everything belongs to the creators. I just like to play around in the universe. :)**

**Many sincere thanks to Liv16 and savingjuliet123 who have both inspired, encouraged, and helped me to make the most of my first DW fan fiction story.**

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy. Reviews very welcome!**

**...**

**"Better three hours too soon than a minute too late." - William Shakespeare**

**…**

Rose missed the sound of storms. Lying awake late at night as a child and listening to the sound of rain hitting the roof and pounding against the windowpane had been a source of great amazement and wonder for her. Of course, like most children, the slap of thunder and the strike of lightening had gotten the better of her imagination; those moments where she had been forced to burrow deep under her covers, away from the light and the terrible noises that followed, protecting herself against the monsters and the unknown darkness. But as time went on, she came to love the sounds of thunderstorms, and relished the thought of being cozy and dry inside her warm house, just out of reach from the wet, cold, and dark. It made her feel safe, untouchable, and secure.

Perhaps that's why she always loved storms so much, it wasn't necessarily the storm itself - the lightening and thunder and dark clouds - but the feeling of safety and comfort of being inside; protected from it. Experiencing it without having to be touched by it.

Nevertheless, the soothing sound of rain falling and the gentle rumblings of thunder always relaxed her, made her feel a part somehow - perhaps of the human race or simply letting her know she was one of many who was experiencing the same thing as her, at the same time - letting her know that she wasn't alone in the storm.

Since Rose started travelling with the Doctor, the TARDIS had provided a great many things - more than Rose felt comfortable accepting, at times, even. Food, clothing, water, and laundry - all of the basic necessities and more. If asked, the TARDIS could even provide music to any particular room, from mostly anywhere. She'd once asked for a song at random and the TARDIS had played the most eerie and unpleasant clacking noise one had ever heard. Much to her dismay, her voice was drowned out by the different sounds, that she'd had to run after the Doctor to get him to turn it off. He'd been in the library at the time, tapping his foot along to the horrible clanging, and had been dumbfounded as to why Rose was so upset by the volume. She'd decided then and there that the Doctor should never get control of the radio, if they were ever in a situation where they got to use one, and he most definitely did not get to choose the music when they were having a night in together - the man simply had no taste in good music.

Rose was sure that if she requested the sound of rain, the TARDIS would be most accommodating, but she also knew that it wouldn't be the same - wouldn't feel the same. She would know that it wasn't real, and she was sure that the feelings that came with the rain wouldn't be reproduced in knowing that it wasn't real. Rain was more than sound - it was a powerful thing, a source of nature to behold. It was moving and profound, and was so much more than a simple noise. It was life, and it could bring death. It was a miracle and it was science. No, it wasn't necessarily the sound of it that Rose longed for. It was the actual presence of a storm.

Climbing out of bed and stumbling across her dark bedroom, Rose gently padded her way down the long hallway, past the control deck, and towards the TARDIS door; pushing it open. The floor of the TARDIS felt cold on her bare feet, and she wished she'd taken a moment to slip on her slippers, or even some cozy socks.

Peering outside, into her bedroom in her mum's flat, she felt amazingly like a child once again, excited and scared and exhilarated. Rose surveyed the room, her eyes finally resting on the window, she could see the droplets of rain first hitting and then running down the pane of glass. It was raining - hard. The wind was howling; the city laid out in front of her, a mass of darkness and thin lights, trying to shine through the cover of cloud. As Rose padded over to the window, thunder rolled through the dark clouds as light shimmered the outside world into existence for single moment, before darkness covered the city like a blanket once again.

Picking up a thin quilt from her bed, she shrugged it on over her shoulders and pulled it around her tightly as she made her way to the window. She didn't necessarily feel cold, but she longed for the comfort and warmth a blanket could provide. The window fogged up every time she exhaled, which only caused her to press her nose closer against the glass, watching the flicker of light and dark and relishing in the fact that she wasn't alone in the storm. There was a mass of people, probably all pressing their faces against their own glass windows, like she, watching the storm in awe as well. She wondered if thunderstorms were going to be the only thing in her future that provided the slightest hint of comfort for her. She shivered at the unpleasantness of the thought, as her mind drifted once again to her mother, and to Mickey, and to what she'd lost that she would never have back again.

Lost in memories, and absorbed by the storm, it was a very long time before Rose turned and went back into the TARDIS.

…

"I don't think I can go," she informed the Doctor that morning when he came to collect her from her room. She was on her hands and knees, on the bed, her arm reaching down between the wall and the mattress as she searched for her shoe. It had occurred to her that she really didn't know when she'd last worn them, and although she'd been successful in finding one, the other seemed determined not to be found.

"What are you looking for?" he asked, his eyebrows raising at the sight in front of him, as he leaned casually against the door frame, crossing his legs.

"My shoe," she said, her voice thick as she mushed her face in the crack to get a better look at what lay there. Frustration hit her as she only saw darkness, and sneezed as a wave of dust hit her. Why was there dust here, even? The TARDIS usually made sure the rooms were dust and allergy free. Rose frowned, grumpily.

He pointed to one on the floor. "There's one."

Rose slowly turned to him, eyes narrowing as she saw what he was pointing at. "That's the one I've already found," she told him, dryly. What a help he was.

He crossed his arms, studying her. She ducked back into the crack, refusing to look at him while he gazed at her so unabashedly. It made her uncomfortable and awkward, and more nervous than she would ever let on. Suddenly feeling annoyed at herself that she'd felt that horrific, slightly teenage, heart-throbbing angst she thought she was long since over, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand - finding her missing shoe.

Her arm reaching under the bed once again, she poked around at nothing before quickly losing her temper, along with her cool, and flopped face-down on the bed, groaning into the layers of quilt and covers. She was uncertain about today and the thought of going and dealing with it all had been tugging at her insides all morning. Anger and annoyance swept over her once again, and this stupid shoe - the simple fact that she couldn't find it on top of everything she was feeling - it was just too much.

"I can't do this, Doctor. I can't go," her voice muffled through layers of comforter. She swatted them away from her face as she struggled to breathe against the heavy fibers. The lack of oxygen she felt still wasn't enough to make her look up, and she relished for a moment in the inability to breathe comfortably. At least her nose was warm.

He regarded her thoughtfully, "Because you don't have a shoe?"

"Yes," she nodded into the bed. Her voice was thick and she refused to look a him. "I only have one shoe to wear and I can't do this and I don't think I want to anyway." The shoe was a good enough reason as any to get out of today, and as Rose had seriously tried to find it, she didn't feel as if she'd given up without a fight. It was just meant to be - her not going, or at least not today. She wasn't ready and she wasn't up to it, and really, in the end, she wasn't sure if she ever would be.

The idea of simply existing without time in the TARDIS suddenly seemed more appealing than ever, and Rose sniffled unsuccessfully before she was forced to turn her head to inhale properly. The Doctor stood, gazing at her thoughtfully, as if she were a problem he was trying to work out. The way he was looking at her almost made her want to turn her face back into the covers, like he was figuring out something about her that she had yet to discover. It made her feel open and vulnerable, and she had to work at forcing herself to stay as she was - gazing back at him. If he wanted to search her out, and learn how she felt, who was she to hold back?

Fighting the desire to suffocate and to cry out of sheer desolation, she watched, just laying there, as he tore his gaze away from hers and quickly scanned the room. Forcing herself onto her knees, and then to stand on the bed, Rose folded her arms as her strode over to her draws and pulled the other shoe from the bottom draw, as if he had known it was there all along.

She looked crossly at the shoe, and he tried to hide a grin.

"Rose?"

Rose looked away. She really didn't want to talk about how mixed up she felt. Upset and happy that she couldn't find the shoe, annoyed and relieved that he now found it. She didn't know what she was thinking or how she felt - only that she was confused and unhappy, and now that she had access to both of her shoes, she simply felt distressed. The shoe had been an excuse to cling to, and now she didn't even have that.

He walked over to her and sat on the bed, tossing the shoe on the floor beside the other. She watched as she shoe landed atop of the other, before falling over onto it's side. The Doctor reached up to where Rose was standing and tugged at her skirt, trying to pull her down to sit next to him. She sunk down, wrapping her arms around her calves and rested her chin upon the tops of her knees. He leaned back on the bed and put his weight on his arms, not quite touching her, and yet not far enough away that she couldn't feel him.

"No one wants to do this kind of thing, you know," he said quietly. "It's perfectly normal, how you're feeling."

Rose winced. The last thing she needed was the Doctor playing psychologist on her. She avoided her feelings and went directly to the physical circumstances. "There are going to be all of these people there. People I don't even know."

The Doctor regarded her solemnly. "Probably," he said gently.

She lifted her head, turning her face towards him. His hair was spectacularly disheveled today, and she longed to take a brush to it.

"They're all going to be looking at me, wondering how I am," she said. "Feeling sorry for me." Her voice trailed off.

He bumped her shoulder with his, lightly. "Think about what they'll say, when they worry why you aren't there."

Rose slumped.

"Hey now, it's not like you'll have to be there by yourself," he said as he reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. "You'll have me there."

"I know," Rose said, her hand reaching up to squeeze his on her shoulder, not wanting to sound ungrateful, but not quite being able to hide her misery at having to go.

He held onto her hand, pulling it down towards his lap, his fingers interlacing with hers. His hand felt nice, and she wasn't opposed to holding it. It felt warmer than her own, and she imagined herself as a little chameleon then, seeping up his warmth, instead of color, making it her own.

The Doctor caressed her hand with his own, moving his thumb gently over hers in some sort of circular pattern. It tickled a bit, but she didn't stop him. He was looking at her so earnestly, so truthfully - wanting her to believe so badly, that she had him and that she wasn't alone and that she would make it through today - that she couldn't help but want to believe anything he said to her.

"Today won't be forever. It'll probably seem long, but then we'll go somewhere else where you'll feel comfortable and we'll take as much time as we need there."

Even the thought of going somewhere was simply unthinkable. All she wanted to do was to curl up under her covers and turn off the lights and simply lay there - not crying and certainly not thinking - but most definitely escaping.

She shrugged, her shoulders heavy and weighed down. Her back ached and she felt tired - more so than ever before in her life. Like every little thing was exhausting all of her energy. Even thinking took energy she wasn't sure she had on reserve.

"I just don't know what to do," Rose sighed.

"I'm telling you," he told her firmly. "We'll do it together, you and I. We'll go and we'll shake hands and we'll thank people for coming and then it'll be over and we can come back here."

"What if I can't?" she asked, helplessly, feeling weak and despising herself for it.

"That's why I'll be there." His grin didn't quite reach his eyes. "You just do what you can, and the rest you leave to me."

Rose sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

"Come on," he patted her knee before standing up. "Let's go." He held out a hand to her, expectantly.

She didn't budge.

"I know you don't want to do this, but people need to see you there. They need to see that you are doing alright."

She looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes, shaken. "But I'm not doing alright. I'm not all right at all."

The Doctor slowly dropped to his knees, kneeling before her and grasped her wrists with his hands. "I know. And I wish I could take this all away for you, so that you'd never have to go through it. I am so very sorry, that we're here and we have to do this." He bowed his head. "Rose, I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but you do need to do this. The closure of today, that is. In the long run, you will be thankful for it."

She saw the flicker of pain that crossed his expression. The pain that he hid so well - the pain that he kept tightly controlled in his innermost secret of places, that flitted to the forefront every now and then - they way he grimaced, was obvious that he barely suppressed the horror of it all. Removing a hand from his tight grasp, she reached out and moved a few stray hairs that had fallen against his forehead.

"Thank you," she told him softly.

She knew what today was costing him. A singular reminder of everything he'd lost, all over again, and to top it off, the knowledge that he hadn't gotten the opportunity to bury his loved ones. He'd never had the chance to get closure from losing his planet, his home, his people - his family.

He nodded as he stood, not quite able to meeting her gaze for once, and pulled her to her feet behind him, tugging her towards the door. She let herself be pulled, only stopping halfway to slip her feet into her heels, and then let him tug at her until they reached the door, and then she had to force him to stop and look at her.

She needed just a moment - one moment to tell him. One moment was all it would take, and he needed to hear what she had to say.

"Rose?" he questioned, confusion flitting across his face.

"I'm sorry, really I am," she said, her voice gaining strength and momentum as she went on. "I just need to take a moment - I just need to tell you..."

Rose wrapped her arms suddenly around his waist, pulling him tightly to her. He made a slight "Oof" as breath left his lungs in his surprise. Letting his arms fall loosely to her waist, she only held him tighter and he let himself be pulled into her embrace.

"I just need to say something to you. Something you need to hear."

He looked at her curiously, but didn't interrupt. She took a deep breath and pressed her cheek to his chest. "I'm so grateful to you, Doctor. For everything."

His voice hitched, and he mumbled, "Rose..."

"No," she interrupted. "Let me get it out."

He nodded against her hair and held her as tightly as she, him.

"I am so glad that I'm here with you and that you want me here." Rose felt desperate to tell him these things, scared that she might not get the chance - that the timing would be wrong, or that the place would never be right - needed him to know how she felt about him. "So, so glad.

I don't know what I'd do or where I'd be right now had you not shown up when you did."

She dared a glance up, to take in his expression as she bared her soul to him. His eyes were wide and his mouth was opening as if to reply but she pleaded, "No, don't - I'm not done," and his mouth shut with a snap. She could look at him now, and she held his gaze as she now had the courage. He wasn't stopping her, wasn't putting up a fight - it was more than she'd expected and she was so very grateful that he was letting her have her say.

"I know some of the things I've said the past few days have been horrible. It was truly awful of me, and I need you to believe me when I say that I don't really think those things and that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Doctor."

"Rose," he quickly interjected. "I know. You don't need to apologize."

She disagreed. "But I do. I need to. And I need you to forgive me."

He gave a huge sigh and looked at her with compassion, as he stroked her cheek gently with the back of his fingers. "Then I do. Of course I do," he said simply. "I'm sorry, too, for,"

"No. Please don't." Rose whispered. "I know."

He looked lost as he stared at her. She sniffed and laid her head back upon his chest. His hearts were pounding. It was soothing and strange and wonderful, and completely him.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost..." Her throat closed as she choked out the words.

"You are not going to lose anyone else," the Doctor said, his eyes bright. He cupped her face in his palms, forcing her to look at him directly. "No one else is ever, ever going to leave you again - not if I can help it."

Rose wished that he could keep that promise. She let him pull her tighter against him, his fingers brushing her skin, making it prickle in a way that was anything but unpleasant.

"Don't leave me today," Rose pleaded.

"I promise, I'll be with you every moment."

Rose relaxed slightly and let him pull her out of her room, and from the TARDIS.

…

The church ceremony had been tough, the minister long, and the roses beautiful. Taking the time to greet each person offering their condolences was a test of patience, and she was grateful that the Doctor hadn't left her side for even a moment.

He hadn't left her alone, as he'd promised, and she had clung to him like a lifeline for most of the day. He'd held her when her shoulders shook and tears ran down her face during the eulogy. He'd tucked her close when she stood beside Mickey for the last time. She hadn't reached out to touch him - hadn't been able to do more than stare at his seemingly sleeping face. It was hard enough to be near him and to see the shell of the friend that used to be so filled with life, knowing that she would never again see him smile at her again with those gorgeous brown eyes, or bump shoulders with her when they were having a good laugh, or feel his lovable arms around her shoulders as he hugged her close.

Looking at him now was only a reminder of who he was, and only caused Rose pain, and she hadn't been able to stay with him long. It was too much a painful memory of who he used to be and she'd rather remember him as the energetic and full of life friend she'd always had in him, opposed to this cold, emotionless body that remained behind.

The Doctor had covered her shaking hands with his own warm ones and squeezed when she'd walked up to her mother's casket, looking down at her mum for the last time. Rose had clutched at him in panic for a moment, not wanting to stay and see her mum like that, and yet not wanting to leave her mother's side, because she knew that this was the last time she'd see her, and she knew that she had to stay because there wouldn't be another time. This was it, and her eyes watered as she gazed down at her mum's beautiful face.

She'd gently touched her hand, caressing the cold skin as tears made their way down her cheeks and the lump in her chest grew heavy, making it difficult to breathe. Letting go of the Doctor, she leaned over and softly kissed her mum's cheek, lingering for a moment to lay her own cheek against her mum's, taking just a moment to try and feel close one last time. Taking a deep breath and trying to put into memory her mum's last peaceful expression, Rose whimpered softly as the Doctor gently pulled her away and led her out of the church. She'd made it into the hallway, alone with the Doctor, before she broke down and sobbed.

"It isn't h-her," she cried. "It doesn't feel like her at all. She's _g-gone_."

He drew her quickly into his embrace and soothed her with gentle words as he caressed her neck and back with his hands. His hearts were beating steadily against her cheek and she pulled herself into him further, desperate to feel _him_, frantic to feel _warmth_, a need to feel something other than inconsolably _alone_.

"When I touched her, she was cold - so cold." Rose wept. "It was like I d-didn't even know her - didn't know who she _was_."

"Shh..." the Doctor said. "She's just... she's gone, Rose. I'm so sorry."

"No!" Rose said, pushing slightly against the Doctor to stand on her own. "You don't understand!"

His eyes narrowed in confusion.

"When I put my hands on hers, I couldn't feel her. I didn't feel anything. There was nothing, she didn't feel like mum - just like a... a _cold_ thing."

Rose dissolved into tears once again, this time reaching for the Doctor.

"I w-wanted for her to feel like my mom. I _needed_ her to," Rose said, her voice hitching. "She felt like nothing - nothing more than a cold body."

"She's still you mum, you know," the Doctor told her gruffly. "Always will be, even if she's not here anymore."

Rose sniffled into his coat. "I wish she was still here."

"I know, Rose," the Doctor said, sadly. "I know." His head lowered to where his cheek was pressed against her own, and she finally felt his warmth. His hot breath against her neck and shoulder helped her relax and it wasn't long before she was breathing more calmly, just letting him hold her - enjoying the feel of a warm body against hers.

Eventually, she calmed down enough for him to lead her to the car outside that would take her to the grave site. Rose was shaking with cold and trepidation as they made their way to where her mum would be laid to rest. Rose had said her goodbyes to Mickey earlier, knowing that she wouldn't follow him on this day as he was settled into the ground. She'd have to visit him where he lay another time. Her heart wrenched at the thought of not seeing his journey to an end, but it was necessary, and as much as she wanted to be there, she needed today done and over with, and she just physically couldn't be in two places at once.

Burying her mother today would be all she could take, and she'd discussed it with the Doctor after the funeral director had brought it up, and he'd sympathised and agreed that the joint church ceremony would be appropriate, to then be followed by separate burials.

So she now found herself belted into the backseat of a car, being driven to the place where her mum would be lowered into the ground. Rose stared outside, not really concentrating on anything in particular, but taking note at how dreary it was outside, grey, wet, and cold. The sky was dark and cloudy - the thunderstorm that she'd stayed up watching last night had stayed, sinking over the ceremony like a thick blanket. The Doctor held her hand tightly as he looked out of his own window - letting her know that he was there for her and yet, lost enough in his own thoughts to want to avoid more conversation than necessary. She left him to it, as she didn't feel up to talking, anyway. Not really.

Before she knew it, the car had stopped and the Doctor jumped out of his seat, and walked around the car to her side. He'd opened her umbrella already and held it above her as he reached for her hand. Setting one foot on the ground, she hoisted herself out of the car and felt comforted all the more when he reached for her elbow and held her closely against him, sharing the umbrella as he led her to the burial site.

Trudging through the mud, Rose felt it only appropriate that rain fell roughly from the sky - like tears from the heavens, crying with her on this horrible day. The wardrobe had provided an ample selection of umbrellas, and she'd chosen a large black one - suitable for the long day ahead.

Rain fell against her legs and rolled down into her satin stilettos. It was a good thing she'd decided against tights - what a mess that would have been. Arm in arm with the Doctor, he practically pulled her through the mud, as she stumbled and tripped her way through the cemetery. When she'd dressed, she'd thought the stilettos would be appropriate - classy, dressy, and simplistically black. Now that she was sinking in the mud, and getting stuck with every other step, she regretted putting fashion above practicality. She was already tired of crying and felt simply drained, as she stumbled over the muddy ground. Thank God for the Doctor. He was practically carrying her along as he trudged through the mud and the mess.

"Rose?" A timid voice behind them called, not loud enough to bring attention, but enough that both she and the Doctor turned in the direction it came from.

Rose felt the Doctor tense as she saw the man that now stood in front of them. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in shock and surprise. His hair was slicked back, wet from the rain, and he wore his usual trench coat.

"J-Jack?" Rose stuttered.

"Oh, good," he replied, relief followed by a grin spreading across all of his features. "You know me."

"Oh...oh my God, it's you! Doctor - it's Jack!" she exclaimed. She turned towards the Doctor in shock. He didn't look nearly as surprised as she felt he should. Turning back to Jack, she said, "Of course we know you, Jack. What do you mean?" Rose asked, reaching her arms towards him.

"Oh God, I thought you were dead!" Rose said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt him hug her tightly to him. She couldn't believe he was standing in front of them - that she was touching him. He was dead! At least, the Doctor had led her to believe he was dead. Glancing quickly back at the Doctor, she felt even more confused at the wary expression now across the Doctors face. He didn't seem all that pleased to see Captain Jack at all. But that was absurd! Of course, he must be thrilled.

"Doctor?" Jack asked confusedly, gently setting Rose back down to examine the Doctor. His eyes slid slowly from bottom to top as he took in the Doctor's appearance, and Rose noted a glint of approval in his eye as his confusion became pleasure.

"Oh right!" the Doctor exclaimed, slapping his palm against his forehead. "New suit! New face! New Doctor!"

"New Doctor?" Jack asked.

"Regeneration," the Doctor replied, matter of factly.

"Ah," Jack said. "I thought that was just a fairy tale." He took another long look at the Doctor and he grinned. "I like it."

The Doctor grinned back, happily. "Me too."

Rose sniffled, a gush of wind hit her, making her nose run more. It really was cold out here, and the sky was getting darker by the minute.

"Oh Rosie," Jack said softly, his grin turning into a grimace as he turned towards her, holding her at arms length. "I had to come - had to take the chance. I saw it in the paper. I'm so sorry."

Rose shifted awkwardly. "Why didn't you let us know you were here? Why didn't you find a way to let us know you were alive?"

Captain Jack scratched his head sheepishly. It made him look young and boyish, and Rose fought the impulse to pull him into a hug once again, just to reassure herself that he was there. "Well, honestly Rose, I didn't know if we'd met yet and I didn't want to mess up the time lines if I showed up too soon."

"So you waited, to make sure you hit the time line right."

He nodded, a brilliant smile making it's way across his face. "Right. I didn't want to take a chance in finding you and you not knowing who I was."

The Doctor nodded. "Good thing, too, Captain. That could've caused some serious problems."

"What would you have done if I hadn't recognized you?" Rose asked.

Jack laughed. "Well, I probably would have just been forced to give one hell of a sexy grin and try my best to give you a one-liner, before making a run for it."

"Oh, stop it," the Doctor whined.

"What? I didn't do it, did I?" Jack argued.

"Only because you didn't muck up the time line!"

"Hey, now!" Jack started.

Rose chuckled between the two of them. Her face was lit up and momentarily, and she shone with happiness at Captain Jack. How she'd missed him! Impulsively, she pulled him into another hug, relishing in the fact that he was standing there, here and now, _alive_ and in front of her.

"Don't know what you're missing, Rosie," the Captain replied, lifting her off the ground as he squeezed her tightly.

"And that's enough of that," the Doctor insisted, as Jack gently set Rose back down on the ground.

"Doc," Jack held out his hand.

The Doctor looked at it for a long moment before jumping towards Jack and throwing his arms around the other man. Jack broke out into a smile as they clapped each other enthusiastically on the back. "It's so good to see you both again! The Doctor and Rose. Where's the TARDIS? You are still travelling?"

The Doctor grinned back. "Oh, yes! We've been to some of the most brilliant places. You should see how Rose can handle herself on the Bridges of Timberoon. Wouldn't let those Grones bully her around at all."

Jack laughed, enthusiastically. "Oh, I bet. Wish I'd been there."

Rose piped up. "You'll have to come with us, then!"

Jack's face lit up as he glanced sideways at the Doctor. "Really? I can come?"

The Doctor nodded slowly, after glancing at Rose and seeing her enthusiastic nod. "'Course you can." Rose wondered why he wasn't more forthcoming with the invitation. What was going on with him?

"That's great!" Jack exclaimed, as he pulled the Doctor into a hug once again. As he pounded the Doctor on the back, Rose asked, curiously, "So what have you been up to all this time, Captain?"

Jack's eyes twinkled as he stepped back from the Doctor, taking her hands in his own. "Oh, you know me. This and that, getting into trouble, running away from trouble - nothing major, just keeping things interesting."

"You'll have to fill us in." The Doctor told him, in a voice that suggested he was more than a little curious. Wary didn't even begin to cover it. Rose couldn't help but wonder what had gotten into the Doctor. He was acting very strangely - even for him.

If Jack noticed anything odd about the Doctor's strange behavior, he kept it to himself. The only indication Rose had that there was something more going on between the two men that she wasn't privy to, was the fact that instead of twinkling with amusement at the Doctor's strangeness, Jack simply gave him a long look, his eyes darkening and his face lost his smile, before giving the Doctor a quick nod. Turning to Rose he said, "We can all catch up later, absolutely." She looked sideways at the Doctor, but his expression gave nothing away. She'd just have to pry it out of him later.

His gaze drifted over the cemetery, and Rose followed his gaze, reminding her of where she stood. "I think there are other things that need our attention now, though."

Rose's eyes dropped to the Captain's chest. She didn't want to meet his eyes - didn't want him to see the pain that was held there. She hadn't forgotten where she was, or why she was here, but she had relished in the few jubilant moments before, when the reality of her situation wasn't pounding to the forefront of her mind. She'd felt joyous to see him again, to touch him and hold him - it was a miracle. A miracle on today of all days. It was cruel that she could be filled with such joy and happiness, and such sorrow and pain all at the same time. The universe really had a sense of irony, she thought somewhat bitterly.

With the Captain on one side of her and the Doctor on the other, they made their way to the grave site. Her mum's casket was already there, closed and waiting. Rose walked over to it, running her finger over the smooth wood. Reaching towards the floral arrangement sitting atop the base of the coffin, she plucked a single yellow rose out and laid it carefully on top of the casket.

Thunder rolled through the clouds, reminding them of the rain pouring down around them. Rose watched as a single droplet of water made its way down the closed casket, slowly connecting with another droplet, and then another, before falling to the cold ground. Rose imagined herself sinking towards the ground, and wondered how that really felt, to be absorbed into the earth. And just like the droplet of water, she too was sinking, down into something. Maybe not the earth, but into some kind of darkness where there was no light and no sunshine and no joy. Glancing at the Doctor and then to Jack, both of them looking back at her with saddened faces, she wondered if her own face reflected the helpless agony she felt. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and she was numb to them. The breeze against her face was cold, and her eyes burned bitterly against the harshness of it, and yet, she wasn't shaken by the physical pain of it.

"I can't believe she's gone," Rose whispered, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.

The Doctor and Jack had fallen silent at her sides, but each grabbed a hand and squeezed. The Doctor's smooth and slender hands, the hands that Rose loved feeling against her own, were very different from Jack's large, rough ones. Feeling torn between wanting to let them lead her back to the TARDIS and wanting a few minutes alone, sadly, neither won out. The sky was darkening all around them as thick grey clouds rolled over their heads and every few minutes, the sky would light up with a burst of lightening. Rain continued to fall, drenching the ground around them, and Rose was happy for it.

Due to the heavy pouring, the ceremony was simple and kept short, much to Rose's relief. The priest was punctual and a large crowd gathered, dark umbrellas meeting at the ends to create a canopy of sorts, protecting the small gathering from the storm.

Rose was thankful that the Doctor seemed old-fashioned enough to carry a handkerchief, as she wasn't sure how her sad little tissue would have withstood the rain and tears of the day. She wiped her cheeks and nose as the minister finished his closing lines,

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." And he reached down to the earth and gathered a bit of dirt and sprinkled it lightly across the top of the coffin. Rose's breath hitched at that, but the Doctor had a firm hold on her hand, and the Captain had laid a hand on her back, both doing what they could to offer her comfort.

Rose appreciated their attempts, but what she really wanted right now was her own space, needed it even. Trying to escape the feeling of being suffocated, she stepped forward, out of the reach from both Jack and the Doctor; stepping closer to her mother. Sobs racked her body - making her immobile - stopping her from reaching her mother's coffin, whom she desperately wanted to be close to, even if just for a single moment more. Letting out a little gasp, she quickly berated and silenced herself, not wanting to cause a scene at the funeral. Rose heard the people around her, crying for her mother, crying for her, but she didn't turn to look, couldn't even. Her eyes were fastened on her mother's coffin, only, and the rest of the world simply fell away. Cold, as if in a daze, she knew that the Doctor and the Captain were talking quietly behind her, but she didn't know what they were saying - didn't even try to focus to make it out. Mum was dead, and this was the end of this horrible day, and she felt no better or worse for having gone through it.

Instead, she only felt loss, and emptiness, and cold. Her teeth chattered and her limbs shook and still, she stood there, reeling from the shock of having just attended her mother's and her best friend's funeral - all in the same day. She wiped at her cheeks once more, annoyed that it didn't seem to do any good, as they were still wet. As she did, she glanced up and noticed with surprise that the crowd that had previously gathered had now dissipated, leaving only a few stragglers spread out over the graveyard in small groups, sharing and huddling under large umbrellas, talking amongst themselves. It was comforting that most of them had now gone. Rose had felt grateful to those who had come, but she was tired and worn and the less people she had to deal with now, the better.

"Rose," the Doctor said softly behind her, his hand settling on her lower back. "Are you ready to go?"

Jack looked from the Doctor to Rose, his face dark and sad as he regarded her.

"I think I... I need a minute alone, if you don't mind," she replied softly.

Jack rocked back and forth on his feet at this, while the Doctor stood stock still, his forehead creased with concern, before his features smoothed and he nodded briskly. "Right. Of course. We'll just be... over there," he pointed to a small tree a little ways away. "Take your time," he told her seriously. "All the time you need. Here," he held out the umbrella to her, "You take this."

Rose shook her head. "No, I'll be alright. The rain looks like it's about to let up anyway."

He looked dubious. "Are you're sure?"

She nodded.

"C'mon Jack." He squeezed Rose's shoulder before letting her go and pulled Jack away towards the tree on the small hill. Rose watched them as they walked away, the wind making their coats billow up behind them as they made their way into the open.

"Rose," a voice spoke from behind her. Rose turned and tried to place the man in front of her. He was wearing black from head to toe, including hat and gloves and he carried a large umbrella that covered Rose completely as he stood near. He was wearing sunglasses, which made it difficult for Rose to try to put a name to his face, though from the thin and wrinkled skin, she could tell that he was someone older.

His voice was silky smooth as he offered his condolences. "I'm so sorry, my dear, for your loss," he said. "It is terrible to lose someone so loved, so..." he paused, reaching for her hand, "So cherished. I can't imagine how you must _feel _at the moment."

"Th...Thank you," Rose stammered, eyes widening slightly as he raised her hand to his lips, giving her a lingering kiss. She pulled back, trying not to see rude, but feeling somewhat out of sorts by this unknown man.

"Not quite...yet." he murmured.

She looked at him strangely. "Excuse me?" Perhaps she'd misheard.

He seemed surprised at her question. "Oh, nothing my dear. Just an old man rambling." He smiled widely and Rose frowned, uncomfortable. "I'll leave you to it. I just wanted you to know how sorry I am for your loss." He made to walk away, but turned towards Rose once more before leaving and said, "Death is only the beginning, Rose. It's best to try and remember that." And with that, he turned and walked away.

Rose tried to ride him off as a crazy nutter, but couldn't help the unsettled feeling he'd created within her. Deciding to not let it get to her, she resolutely turned back to her mother's casket, which was now starting to be lowered into the ground by the graveyard employees. She was both horrified and saddened that her mother was being lowered into a hole filled with water. Rose sucked in her breath sharply and she forced herself not to think of it too much. Her mother was dead, and wouldn't know - wouldn't be able to know that she was being settled into a pool of water. Besides, they hadn't lowered her completely yet - there was some sort of pump draining the water out, or trying to at least.

Tears leaked from Rose's eyes as she desperately tried not think about it anymore. It was just too horrific a thought for anyone to really focus on. Her thoughts were unfocused, and she hurriedly tried to put something in her mind - _anything_ to get her mind away from the water in the hole. It was simply appalling.

Kneeling down beside the casket, Rose finally succumbed to the loss she was feeling, the horror of the water now in the open grave, and the fact that her mother was being buried. It overwhelmed her, and she gasped for breath against the burning ache that now pressed against her chest.

"Oh mum," she cried. "I -." Thunder hit hard, close that time, and her words were drowned out. Her heart was pounding, and she was hunched over, overcome with a fierce, wild, sorrow, and the knowledge filled her, that there was nothing right in the world, nothing fair or sacred - not now, not ever, and she was sorry - so very sorry, for everything. The rain that had looked as if it were letting, now seemed to pour down harder, and Rose felt like screaming. It felt so appropriate, and so angering all at the same time. She cried into the rain and the water that fell to her cheeks mixed with the tears from her eyes, as they made their way, joining together, falling towards the ground. Her dress that had been damp before, now clung to her, soaking her to the bone and chilling her - and still, she cried.

She was beside herself, hysterical and lost and sad, her hands going through the motions of trying to dry her cheeks, of pushing hair out of her face as the wind blew it repeatedly back, to try and unsuccessfully keep her dress down. She didn't know if she should stay or leave.

Looking up, she saw Jack and the Doctor a few feet away from her. They'd obviously come back from the little tree on the hill after noticing what a state she was in, but were still trying to respect her wishes and give her space. The Doctor fidgeted towards her like a young stallion on new legs, wanting so desperately to come towards her and comfort her, and yet afraid to offend and overstep his bounds.

Rose stood quickly, deciding she wasn't in her right mind and wasn't ready to make any real decisions about whether she needed to stay or go, and the rain was just _pouring_, and her hair was now matted to her hair and she knew she looked a fright - but she looked at the Doctor and he looked at her and she _needed_ him.

Walking towards him, she tripped, of course she did - her heels sunk deep in the mud once again, and she went down roughly, her hands meeting mud and her knees skidding. Her fingertips grazed the coffin and a jolt of electricity went through her, burning her, and she couldn't stop the cry that shot out of her.

"I've got you." Strong arms pulled her to her feet.

"What was that? My hand!" she cried. The Doctor's attention went immediately to her hands, holding them carefully in front of him as he looked them over.

"What was it?" he asked. "Are you hurt? I don't see anything."

Rose felt frantic as she focused on her burning hands, turning them over once, and then again, trying to see where she'd been burned.

"Rose, sweetheart," the Captain was there, too. "What happened?"

"I was burned!" she exclaimed in shock. "The coffin burned me!"

The Doctor looked worried and he shared a quick look with Jack. He started eyeing her face carefully, as if the problem was in her head and not in her hand. She brushed him away in annoyance.

"Well, let's see it, then," the Captain said, sensibly, reaching to hold her hands in his own. He examined them carefully, turning them over and then back. "Rose, do you see anything? Because I'm not seeing any marks."

Examining her hands, Rose couldn't see anything either, and the shock that she'd felt had dissipated into nothing, and she couldn't even locate the specific spot that she'd been burned.

"It's so strange..." she trailed off, staring at her hands and yet not, her mind lost in thought.

The Doctor stepped forward again, this time, holding his sonic screwdriver in front of him. "This isn't the first time you've been experiencing something strange the past few days, is it, Rose?" he asked.

Rose numbly shook her head.

"Right," he said authoritatively, moving into action, "Let's see what I can detect here."

He buzzed and bleeped her with his sonic screwdriver for a moment, stopping once or twice to change the settings and to look at the readings carefully, before looking back at her a bit dejectedly. "I can't find anything wrong with you."

The Captain put a casual arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She let herself sink into his warmth. He felt nice - simple and present - and she felt safe.

"Maybe you just got stung by something," Jack suggested. "Or you just pinched it on something."

Rose nodded, not really believing it but feeling the need to move on from it. "That's probably what happened - you're right. I'm sorry for making such a fuss.

"No fuss at all." Jack told her with a grin. "Couldn't be a fuss if you tried."

There was a tug at Rose's elbow, then, and she turned towards it, breaking into a sad smile when she saw who it was. Pulling away from Jack, she said, "Oh, I'm so glad you could come."

"Of course I'd come. How could you think I'd not?"

"A lot's been going on - I honestly haven't had time to think about much of anything, really."

Rose turned back to Jack and said, "This is my friend, Shireen. Shireen, this is my very good friend, Captain Jack Harkness."

Jack smiled charmingly. "A pleasure to meet you, Shireen." He leaned over, holding her hand and kissed it, charmingly.

Shireen giggled.

"Oh, stop it," the Doctor interrupted.

"I'm just saying hello," Jack replied, sarcastically, as he let go of Shireen's hand and moved over to the Doctor, pulling them both away. He winked back at Rose conspiratorially, so she'd know he was doing it on purpose - to give her a moment alone with her friend.

"He's something else, isn't he?" Shireen said.

Rose nodded, watching them walk away. She watched them walk away, feeling the loss of them more as the distance grew between them.

Shireen gave her a quick hug, patting her back sympathetically. "I'm truly sorry, Rose. I don't know what to say. It sounds daft, I know, but I just feel awful about this and I wish there was something I could do to make it better, but I know there's not, and I hate this for you - that you are having to go through this, 'cause I love you and I hate that you're hurting."

Rose gave her friend a small grin. "I love you too, you know."

Shireen quickly exhaled. "Oh, I just knew I'd screw that up."

Rose couldn't help but laugh. "You mean you practiced?"

Shireen blushed. "Well, not exactly, I didn't. But when I went over major points, the rambling didn't occur so much." She smiled. "But really, Rose, is there anything you need? Anything I can do so you don't have to worry about it?"

Rose shook her head. "No, not really." She glanced back at the Doctor, who now was in deep conversation with Jack. "Everything with the funeral is done and over with. The finances are covered, thanks to the Doctor making a few calls for me. The only thing I've got to do still is to work on the flat."

"Have you decided what you are going to do with it?"

"Well, I can't just leave it, because I'm still travelling with the Doctor. I suppose I'll have to go and pack everything up in boxes and put it in storage until I can figure out what I'm doing in the future."

"So you're gonna have to pack up the entire flat?"

"Yeah," Rose sighed heavily.

"I can help you with that," Shireen offered. "I know it's gonna be a lot of work."

"That'll be good, yeah. Thanks," Rose said. "The Doctor will be there, and maybe Jack, so between the four of us, hopefully it won't take that long."

"Who is Jack?" Shireen asked, as she glanced back to the man the Doctor was talking to. "He's awfully good looking. Where did you meet him?"

Rose laughed. "He is very pretty, isn't he? Don't tell him, though, 'cause he already knows it." She glanced back at him and wasn't surprised to see him looking back at her, a smirk on his face and an eyebrow lifted in indignation.

"You sure know how to find them, don't you girl?" Shireen said jokingly jealous.

Rose beamed a bit. She couldn't help it. Thinking about them and how amazing they both were to her made her smile. She didn't reply, but her face told more than words ever would. Travelling in the TARDIS with the Doctor, and now Jack again made her happy, and she knew she'd be okay so long as she had them with her.

Shireen bit her lip and looked away then, her cheeks blushing red.

"What?" Rose asked, curious as to what thought suddenly embarrassed her friend.

"The three of you aren't...you aren't..."

"What?" Rose asked.

"You aren't together, are you?"

Rose chuckled, despite her best efforts not to. "Of course not, Shireen! What kind of girl do you take me for?"

"I wouldn't judge!" Shireen protested, laughing herself. "I mean, look at 'em! They are gorgeous."

The Doctor and Jack were both staring at the two girls now, matching smirks upon both of their faces. Rose rolled her eyes, and quickly pulled Shireen further away so that their backs were now facing the boys. They were only a few feet away, but still - they could give them a little privacy!

I'm not with either one of them," Rose replied, softly.

"Why?" Shireen asked. "Oh! Are they, you know... together?"

The Doctor suddenly started choking and Rose watched amused as Jack pounded him on the back a few times.

"No, it isn't like that."

"If you aren't dating one of them, and they aren't together, then I call dibs on one of 'em," Shireen told her cheekily.

"I think they can hear us," Rose whispered, slightly mortified at having been caught in such an awkward conversation with her mate in front of the Doctor and Jack.

Shireen giggled. "Oops, sorry." But Rose could tell she didn't really mean it. Sighing, she pulled Shireen over to a nearby bench and plopped down next to her, her heels sinking once again into the mud. She didn't care.

"You sure are making a mess of yourself, today," Shireen told her. "You'll be covered in mud from head to toe before long."

Rose let out a long, withering, sigh. "I know."

"I've got some wipes in my purse," Shireen offered. "Let me see if I can find a few."

"Thanks," Rose replied. Shireen searched her purse for a few moments before producing a handful of tissues. "These are heavy-duty, so they should do nicely."

Rose held one out and let it wet by the rain before washing her hands and face. She was about to move to the second tissue when Shireen said quietly, "I don't know how to talk to you about this."

Rose looked at her.

"I've gone over it and over it in my head, and I haven't figured out a way to bring it up. Because I want you to know that I know, and it just breaks my heart..."

"What does?" Rose interrupted. "What are you on about?"

"I saw the accident," Shireen said slowly.

Rose paled. "What? You were there?"

"I was across the street when it happened. I don't want you to think I blame you or anything - oh, I'm messing this up, I knew I would!" Shireen put her head in her hands.

"Why would you blame," Shireen looked up horrified, "or not blame me?" Rose asked, confused.

"I saw you," Shireen replied.

Rose stared at her friend in confusion. "You saw me?"

Shireen nodded and tears leaked out of her eyes. "Yes, and I'm so sorry. I know how much worse it must make this."

"Shireen, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

Shireen's voice hitched. "You were there, Rose. I'm trying to tell you that I saw the accident - I saw you."

"You saw me at the accident?" Rose asked, wanting to understand.

Shireen nodded slowly, not meeting Rose's intense look. "You ran out in the middle of the street - I had waved to you, but you didn't see me." Shireen explained, guilt written all over her features. "I yelled at you to stop, to be careful, but you didn't."

Rose's eyes narrowed, suddenly worried and suspicious at what her friend was implying.

"You ran out in the street - in front of their car."

Rose stood up. "Are you trying to tell me that you think_ I _killed mymum and Mickey?"

Shireen stood up with her. "No! Of _course_ not. I don't think you killed anyone, Rose. I know you didn't do it - it was only an accident. It's just a horrible thing, really. I mean, you didn't know - you couldn't have known..."

Shireen looked horrible, and Rose had to work not to stare. Shireen's clothes were slightly askew, and her mascara had left track marks down her cheeks. Her eyes had dark bags underneath, making her look as though she'd aged ten years in several days. Her hair was just awful, manky and greasy, lacking the usual shine and meticulous order. Rose realized quickly that her friend was trying to be earnest - was trying to be supportive. But she was wrong - oh so wrong, and today was just not the day Rose needed to hear, any of it. She couldn't help but feel anger towards her friend - the situation was horrific in itself, and this added development was just enough to push Rose over the precarious precipice she had been managing to hold herself upon, and she had to swallow hard to keep her anger at bay.

"I wasn't there," Rose told her, slightly short. She really didn't need this today.

Shireen's mouth dropped open. "But... I saw you, Rose. It was you - I know it was you."

"I wasn't there." Rose repeated, quickly becoming furious. "Shireen, it wasn't me." She took a deep breath before looking at Shireen directly. "I'm sorry - I just can't do this today. It's too much on top of everything else. I can't even imagine what you were thinking saying something like that to me, _today_ of all days. I buried my mum and my best friend, today. I'm _done_."

Shireen took a step back. "I... I'm sorry... I knew I would mess it up. I just wanted you to know that I was there, so you could know, that you could talk to me about it. So that you didn't think you had to go through it alone. That I would understand."

Rose turned away, trying to calm herself. Her ears were ringing and her mouth felt dry. Part of her understood what Shireen was trying to say, but part of her couldn't believe what she'd just been told. How could Shireen have confused her so thoroughly with someone else, and then bring it up today - at her mum's funeral? It was more than bad timing - it was just awful all around.

"I really don't know what else to say," Rose said, talking more into the rain than to Shireen, but she knew she was heard and that was what mattered. "I think I'd better... go back over there." She raised her arm listlessly to where the Doctor and Jack were standing. Shireen didn't even look up.

"I'll call you... later, yeah?" Rose tried to keep her tone friendly, but still couldn't make herself look at Shireen again. She hadn't expected the conversation to end like this, and she felt physically ill over it. She grabbed her stomach to try and ease some of the cramping. It didn't really help.

Shireen couldn't answer, she was crying too hard. Irritated and upset and feeling unwell, Rose started towards her, prepared to ask Shireen what _her_ problem was, wiping her own tears away as she wanted to demand what was causing Shireen's, when a pair of arms gently grasped hers, leading her back towards her mum's casket.

She jerked away, furious and shaking and cold, and decided then and there that she didn't want anyone or anything else touching her or happening to her today. She couldn't take anymore. She was done. She stomped over to where the casket was now half-way in the ground and frowned at it moodily, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. Her stomach churned and she lifted her face into the rain, letting the drops cleanse the angry tears from her face. Jack walked up next to her, quiet and cautious, as if not wanting to frighten her. She rolled her eyes.

"We heard."

"I know."

"I'm sorry," he offered.

She nodded, not feeling up to much more talking today. Sighing, she leaned forward, removed her heels from her feet and sunk her bare toes in the dirt. Her feet would get filthy, but she couldn't continue to walk around sinking in the mud and falling down due to the impracticality of stilettos. She held them in one hand as she turned around, her eyes searching for those of the Doctor. She found them easily enough as he'd walked up to where she and Jack now stood in front of the open grave, and he stared back at her, his eyes full of compassion and love and sorrow.

"I guess I'm ready to go back now." She told him. He nodded and reached out a hand, taking her shoes from her to carry in one hand, as he reached out his other hand to grasp hers tightly. Jack sighed next to her and looked down, shoving his hands deep into his pant pockets.

"You're coming too, aren't you?" she asked.

Jack glanced hopefully at the Doctor. "Only if I'm wanted."

Rose glanced at the Doctor as well, and seeing his affirmative nod, she invited, "Of course you're wanted. Come on, then."

She took one step forward, and then looked back. The yellow rose that she had been carefully lain on top of the casket, had rolled off, and Rose needed to fix that before she could leave. Grabbing one last flower from a bouquet, she gently set it on top of the casket once again.

Rose gasped as a tingling sensation ran through her body, like an electric shock, starting in her fingers as they touched the coffin and running through her body directly to her heart. Sending a jolt through her body and making that hole - the one that was ever so slightly closing - gawp open again; making that empty ache grow strong and paining once more, with fervor. She felt like she couldn't breathe, like the shock had stopped all her bodily functions, preventing her from moving, or thinking.

"What is it Rose?" the Doctor asked, concerned, his arm making it's way around her waist, as if he were afraid she might keel over at any moment. She wasn't sure she could guarantee that she wouldn't, and so she allowed it.

"I don't know, exactly." Her voice trembled.

"Well, what did it feel like?"

"I don't know!" She bent over in agony as pain swept through her abdomen once again.

"Rose?" Jack asked.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." She would try to make herself believe it, even if they didn't.

"Did you see something?"

"No...yes...I don't think so. Maybe." She could barely choke out the words.

"Was it just a feeling?" The Doctor had moved in front of her, trying to make eye contact with her. The pain vanished as suddenly as it arrived and she could easily stand up again. She looked at him.

"No. It was..."

"You hunched over - where you in pain?" the Doctor interrupted.

"It didn't feel like pain, no. It was more of a...discomfort." He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and started moving it over her stomach.

"A discomfort? What kind of discomfort? Intestinal? Abdominal? Where?"

"No where specific, if that's what you're asking."

"You felt a discomfort, but not anywhere in particular." The Doctor looked dubious.

"Oh, my head hurts." She reached up and pressed her fingers to her head and rubbed, trying to ease some of the throbbing pressure.

"How badly?"

"It's pounding, the front and the sides - it's so much, Doctor. I feel like I'm gonna be sick." Rose gasped as she hunched over once again. She was not going to be sick, she kept telling herself. Not here.

"Rose, let's get you back to the TARDIS."

"No, I don't want to move. I need to stay right here."

"What? Why?" The Doctor looked a bit panicked all of a sudden, which was obvious by the now frantic gestures he was making in changing the settings on the screwdriver.

"I just know it."

"You can walk just a few steps over here, Rose. You can sit down." Jack said soothingly as he pointed to some nearby benches.

"No, I can't. I can't move."

"You can't move?" Jack asked.

"No, I need to stay here."

"Can you feel your arms and legs?" The Doctor asked, eyes dark and narrowed.

"Of course I can!"

"Then why can't you move?"

"Because I'm not supposed to!"

The Doctor and Jack looked at each other. The Doctor slipped the screwdriver back into his coat pocket.

"How do you know you aren't supposed to?" Jack questioned.

Rose thought for a moment. "I don't know. I really don't know." She frowned. "All I know is that something is wrong - very wrong, and I'm not supposed to move. I need to feel this, I need to acknowledge that something isn't right here. But I don't know what it is." She hovered her hands above the casket and flinched as her hands felt like they were on fire. She turned them over quickly, expecting them to be bright red and blistered - only they looked completely normal.

Rose looked desperately at the Doctor. "Something's very wrong."

Although the Doctor didn't look as if he had a clue what was going on, he quickly snapped into action and pulled out his sonic screwdriver again. He changed a few settings before scanning Rose, his face unreadable as he concentrated.

"Wait! Wait...Wait," the Doctor said. "Hold on."

Rose was about to respond, when she was suddenly shocked again, this time, forcing her to hunch over into herself, grasping at her abdomen and head as she felt violently ill. Her stomach contorted and her head throbbed, and she gestured helplessly, uncharacteristically lost for words.

"Oh," she said. "Doctor - I'm going to be sick."

And then as quickly as it hit her, it passed, and she had to take a few moments to check and convince herself that she was okay. The memory of the aches lingered, and it was like she had to convince her body that she really wasn't hurt. "What is going on?" she murmured to herself.

One thought resonated clear and powerful in her heart, though, and she knew it as_ fact,_ even if her mind couldn't catch up with it.

"That," she pointed, "is not my mother." She stated, staring accusatory at the coffin.

"Rose?" Jack asked her worriedly, now coming to sit next to her. "What was that? Are you okay?"

"Jack, I don't know what's going on," Rose confided. "I think something is really, really wrong with me."

He held her close, whispering reassurances in her ear as watched the Doctor take readings. He had his arm deep in the hole now, and Jack was afraid he would fall in if he wasn't more careful. Untangling himself from Rose, he excused himself with a head pointed in the Doctor's direction. Rose quickly followed his train of thought, urging him to hurry and catch him before he fell. Jack jumped up and grabbed hold of the Doctor's coat, and the Doctor eased back into a comfortable standing position. He looked even more confused and serious as he clambered between Rose and the casket, changing the control setting on the screwdriver every few moments to test for something new.

"Ah - there it is," the Doctor said, a smile beginning to make itself across his face.

"What is it Doctor?" Jack asked, peering over the Doctor's shoulder as the Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver into the ground where the casket now lay. It bleeped and lit up, and the Doctor quickly moved to the end of the casket, scanning it in the same way before running the sonic screwdriver lengthwise down the casket and back up again. Jumping up and bumping into the Captain, almost knocking his head against Jack's chin, he exclaimed, "Rose!"

Jack grabbed the Doctor's shoulders to steady him, and maybe himself, as Rose sat up still holding her head. "What is it?" she asked.

"My glasses! I need my glasses!" He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, pulling out miscellaneous things and dropping them on the ground as he went. A yo-yo and rubber duck, a granola bar and an envelope, a few heavy-weight rocks that looked like paperweights - they all went to the ground.

"Was that a rubber duck?" Jack murmured, dryly. "Kinky, Doc."

The Doctor frowned in his direction as he pulled out a few more trinkets and added them to the pile on the ground. "Ah-ha!" he exclaimed, pulling on a pair of white 3D glasses. "Oh - there it is!

"What is it?" Rose asked.

"Well?" the Doctor waited. "Isn't anyone going to ask me what's with the glasses?"

"What's with the glasses?" Rose asked quickly.

"I can finally see, that's what!"

Rose felt convinced that he'd finally lost his mind. He was now swaying back and forth as he leaned towards the casket in the ground.

"Doctor?" Jack questioned.

"Look!" The Doctor handed the glasses to Jack, who put them on. Jack stumbled back saying, "Woah!"

"What are you doing?" Rose asked, now wondering what the two of them could possibly be seeing. Jack was now rocking left and right, his face also lighting up with a smile.

"I see it!" Jack exclaimed. "But...what is it, Doc?'

"What is it? What do you see?" Rose demanded. "One of you had better start talking, right now!"

"Look for yourself," Jack said, pulling the glasses off of his face and settling them over Rose's eyes. Rose glanced at the Doctor, and he nodded back reassuringly.

Turning her head back towards the casket, she was startled as something in her vision swam forward, as if coming from the Doctor. It was greenish-black and floated around the Doctor, like a moving aura made out of pixels. Shining dust particles floating where nothing should be, and Rose couldn't help herself from shaking her head, back and forth, watching them move and swirl more with every turn of her head.

"What...is this?" she asked, reaching out as if to touch the dancing particles.

"Void Stuff," the Doctor replied.

"Void Stuff," she repeated, not understanding.

"Oh yes, I get it now," Jack said all of a sudden. "Rose, this could be good."

Rose's eyes narrowed at Jack. What was she missing? Why was no one talking? What was going on?

The Doctor stepped forward, explaining, "Anyone who travels through separate worlds, travels through the void at some point or another. It's the mass of nothing that is between two separate worlds."

"A mass of nothing?" she whispered.

"Some people call it hell." His voice was uncharacteristically solemn.

Rose shook her head. "No, I don't understand."

"In our travels in the TARDIS, Rose," the Doctor explained, "when we jump in time and space, we sometimes slip between parallel worlds, before the TARDIS can right herself down the correct path. We've all been exposed at some point or another."

"Okay," Rose said slowly. "Sort of like radiation poisoning, without the dying effect."

"Exactly."

"How come you've never mentioned it before?"

He looked at her strangely. "I don't mention a lot of things we travel through - it'd be impossible to list as we move so quickly. It's just sort of like... a space garbage landfill. Nothing there to see or look at, but it exists and we go through it from time to time. Nothing worth putting the brakes on and taking a peek."

"But I still don't understand what this has to do with mum."

The Doctor turned her to face the coffin. "Look at the casket."

Rose did, and gasped. The Void Stuff was covering the coffin, swirling and moving around her mum - disappearing into the coffin before circling back and around.

"What..." she stammered, her eyes filling with tears and she felt barely on the edge of control and reason. The Doctor came forward and gathered her in his arms, just stroking her hair gently as he held her.

"Jackie never went with us. Your mum would not have void goo surrounding her."

Rose took a moment to let that sink in. Her heart fluttered in her chest, the first flicker of hope filled her and she fought the urge to push it back down.

"So what you're saying is..." She looked helplessly at the Doctor.

"Rose," he took a deep breath. "You were right. That is not your mother."

...


	6. Sorrow will last for the night,

...

**Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything in **the Who** or Torchwood universe - I only wish I did. Nothing belongs to me, everything belongs to the creators. I just like to play around in the universe. :)**

**Author's Note: I would personally like to thank Liv16 for being the best Beta an author could hope to find. She's so warm and kind and gives the most brilliant suggestions when I get stuck. The opportunity in working with her inspires me every day to keep writing, to keep working, to keep growing as a first-time writer. She also helped me transition a few scenes with her brilliant writing suggestions and helped me with dialogue in a few places when I got stuck. She is completely lovely and I feel genuinely thrilled and thankful to work with her.**

**Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy.**

**...**

"It has begun," he rasped coldly, "but we've arrived too early."

Leaning back in his chair, he thrummed his fingers together as he swallowed down his anger. Erupting in a violent rage wouldn't change the fact that they had simply arrived too early in her time line, and he would need to wait patiently for things to happen in the right order. Glaring at the Mmicus, the copycat race of minions he'd had to endure for company, for servitude, for _centuries_, he was once again reminded and disgusted at the inadequacy of their technology. Cursing them and the Time Lords and the whole of the universe and creation again, he mentally reminded himself once more of the end result.

He'd touched her - his eyes closed at the memory - he could still feel the warmth of her skin, and the pulsating enormity within, through the cold in his limbs. It was definitely her. He'd finally found the right Rose. The companion of the _Doctor_, he thought to himself in disgust. It had taken years, centuries even, of travelling different parallel universes to find the one that the Time Lord frequented through. Searching for them had been arduous and gruelling, even cruel at times - as if the universe was fighting against him and his plan, and he had been forced into infinite patience with the knowledge and reminding promise of what could be achieved once he found her.

Finding the Doctor's Rose had been an insultingly easy task after the ship picked up the temporal energy absorbed and exhausted from the TARDIS. He felt like laughing, he was so pleased. A time rift on Earth. The idea of it was so absurd, it was ludicrous. It was something he hadn't even imagined, something so extraordinarily uncommon - the fact that something that should never exist, seemingly did exist, so blatantly out in the open for all to see, that locating the Doctor had been so amazingly simple in the grand scheme of things.

How did the Doctor keep the Earth protected while such a temporal rift existed? Wasn't the universe aware of it's existence? Or of it's potential?

Once upon a time, the Eye of Harmony had been the sole power source for a TARDIS, and as such, the TARDIS's of old had exhausted a specific signature scent. He had spent so many years in thought, trying to imagine what the Doctor was forced into using as a substitute power source for his TARDIS, that the possibilities of locating his specific TARDIS signature was seemingly impossible. Similar to the Earth saying of finding a needle in a haystack, without knowing what the needle might actually look like.

The effort he'd put into trying to locate an unidentified signature smell... he felt like weeping. When all this time, the TARDIS signature scent remained exactly the same as it ever had been. But no, he wouldn't do that. Not when he'd finally found them. Found _her_.

Although the Mmicus ship had been designed for jumping parallel universes, the ability to travel through time was a difficult and trying process. In actuality, it was sheer luck that they had arrived in Rose's direct time line at all. So they'd arrived a little early, so what. He'd been patient in the early days of Time, and so much longer afterwards, and he could remain patient a while longer, yet. It wouldn't be for nothing. Oh, no.

Things would change, so drastically, once his people were returned. A grin slowly made it's way across his thin features, stretching his skin tightly as he felt his lips spread over his sharp teeth. He inhaled slowly. Oh yes, things would certainly change.

He stood lithely from his chair and walked down one of the seemingly endless dark corridors, his steps carefully placed and soft as he crept towards a specific cell. The two humans inside were cuddled closely together in a dark, and he didn't even try to mask the sneer of disgust that crossed his face at their physical closeness. To cling, to need, to feel - he was revolted by it. His aversion to emotional comfort and his distaste for humanity only grew as he listened to the whispered hopes and reassurances that the two passed to one another.

"They'll come," the woman whispered to the boy. "I know it, they'll come for us." The boy - well, almost man, he conceded - didn't answer, but he did squeeze her hands together tightly in his own.

It made him...curious.

"What makes you so sure?" he boomed, his voice echoing in the dark, thunderous and warning, and both the woman and the boy jumped in fright.

"Who...Who's there?" the boy stuttered. "I don't see anything, do you Jackie?"

The woman, _her_ mother, whimpered and stood up; backing against the furthest wall as if to escape the unknown. "No...it's too dark."

He chuckled then, and watched in amusement as they both stiffened against the sound. His presence made the darkness wrap them in a cold chill, and it wasn't long before they were both shivering - torn between fright and cold. They were afraid - terrified even - and he bathed in it, like a child standing in the warmth of the sun.

"What do you want with us?" the boy yelled, his bravery almost admirable if not for the tremble in his voice.

"You aren't here for my amusement," he quietly confided, his voice now eerie and thin instead of thunderous and booming. He watched them carefully, noticing that they seemed even more aware of the darkness now than before. Their fear was palpable, and he breathed in it's scent, closing his eyes as he shuddered in pleasure.

"Why then?" the woman asked, her eyes wide in the dark. She couldn't see him, as he currently presented himself as nothing more than a mass of dark shadows, but the way they searched out his presence with their human eyes - wide and desperate - he found it amusing. Little did they know the mind manipulation he had unleashed within them. To see, or not see in this case, what they most feared was always intriguing to him. Apparently, in this case, what couldn't be seen was far more frightening than what could be physically imagined, and he basked in their fear, like a plant to sunlight.

"You have no idea, Jackie," her name sounded foreign to his lips and he cringed, "at how many Earths I've travelled to find _your _daughter."

"My daughter?" she whispered, shaken.

"What do you want with Rose," the boy shouted, running up to the bars and rattling them. "Who are you? Why do you have us locked in here?"

"Mickey, don't!" Jackie choked, terrified.

He laughed cruelly, relishing in listening to the acceleration of their beating hearts.

"Who am I? Have you truly not figured it out yet?"

Mickey frowned and Jackie pleaded with him to come back away from the bars. He watched in silence as Mickey slumped backwards and joined Jackie against the wall. Her arms clamped around Mickey's arm and the boy winced.

"Wouldn't have bothered asking if we knew who you were," Mickey said sullenly

"Who I am is not your concern. It's what I am that should interest you."

"We already know you're an alien," Mickey said roughly.

He smiled viciously.

"But I'm not."

The two humans gaped. "You're human?" Jackie gasped.

He sneered in disgust. "Of course not."

Mickey's face screwed up in confusion. "What are you, then, if you aren't alien and you aren't human?"

His voice was thunderous once again. "I am what you fear. I was born out of anger and terror and hate and war. I am the shadows in the darkness, the coldness in the black. I am your worst thought and your worst memory. I am what's hidden in your nightmares." He paused, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. "Imagine your worst, if you will, and know that it would run screaming from _me_."

Jackie let out a sob and Mickey's chin trembled.

He tilted his head in fascination. "And I am going to use your daughter. She's the key to all of this. She's going to bring it all back."

"Bring...bring what back?" Jackie whimpered.

"The Time War."

Both of the humans gasped.

"Rose can't do that!" Jackie gasped. "She's only my little girl. She's just my little girl."

"What makes you think that Rose can do that?" Mickey demanded.

He smiled thinly, his eyes blazing and fierce against the darkness he walked in.

"Because I know what she will become." He voice lingered in the shadows. "We've arrived too early in her time line, and so we must wait until she's ready."

"Ready for what?" Mickey asked.

"You stay away from my daughter!" Jackie yelled, as she huddled behind Mickey.

He only laughed again, malevolent and mercilessly, as he crept back down the hall. He needed to check up on a few things before his next confrontation with the girl.

...

Rose dropped down heavily to the ground, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath, her head spinning and her stomach churning. Her mouth felt dry and she desperately wished for the pounding in her ears to stop playing havoc on her eardrums. The Doctor, now crouched next to her as Jack anxiously hovered at her feet, kept throwing darted, worried glances towards him over her head, seemingly ignoring the fact that she could see him do so, before turning his attention directly on her once again.

"So what you're saying is..." Rose could hardly think it, much less say it. Her head felt like a swollen mush of cotton ball. "What you're telling me is that..."

The Doctor's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he reached out for Rose's hand, giving it a tight squeeze as his fingers encircled her palm. "We did _not_ bury your mum today."

Rose's breath hitched, her eyes widening in disbelief as she looked up at the Doctor, pleadingly without the use of words for him to tell her the truth. A spark of hope had seeded itself into her chest and she mentally pushed against it, keeping it at bay, afraid of how much more it would hurt, when that hope was torn away once again.

"You mean, my mum's not dead after all?" Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks and she bit her lower lip to keep herself from saying more. There were so many questions at the tip of her tongue, but she didn't want to ask them - not yet, not until she knew for sure. Not until she could believe whatever answer he would tell her. Voicing them would make them real, and she wasn't a believer, yet. She was hanging onto the edge of a precipice, clinging to hope and terrified to fall.

He was fighting with himself on how to best answer her, she could tell. His face was hopeful even though his brow was furrowed. He put his arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her towards him. His coat draped partially around her as she leaned into him and she found herself once again lulled by the scent of him. Wind and fire and ice - she honestly didn't know how a person could smell of such things, but he somehow did.

"I don't want to get your hopes up, Rose," he said to her gently, as if fearful she would fly into hysterics at any moment, "but I don't want to be untruthful either."

"Just be honest with me, Doctor. It's all I've ever needed from you," she told him sincerely. "Is my mum dead?"

His shoulder's tensed. "I don't know the answer to that," he told her, his voice thick.

Slowly, she nodded, accepting that as truth.

"And the person in the coffin?"

"It's not Jackie."

Her mouth mimed the words that her brain refused to compute. "It's not my mum."

"But, it does mean that there is a possibility that your mum is out there alive, fine and happy and has got her wits about her and maybe has a plan to get herself home..." The Doctor stopped.

"Weeelllll... I am talking about Jackie here..." he chuckled softly to himself. "There is the possibility that she's out there and alive. Possibly fine."

Rose tried to let that sink in. But the flip side is what terrified her.

"But she may not be alive."

The Doctor fell silent, which was answer enough. "The truth?" he finally asked her.

She nodded shakily. "Always, the truth."

He nodded into her hair. "There is as equal a possibility that we might not find her."

"And that she might be dead," she whispered.

"Yes," he rasped, as if the answer itself might break her and send her over the edge. "But we can focus on the off chance that she's fine and that we'll find her. I promise, Rose, I'll do everything I can do to find her."

Incredulous and scared to what he was telling her, she began to tremble and she clung to the Doctor's hands around her, in an attempt to keep them around her - to keep him close. The Doctor's eyes sparkled and he gave her a half squeeze, his face hopeful. His hands were warm and dry as he gently pulled free a hand from her tight grasp to reach into his coat pocket. He pulled out a handkerchief and gently mopped up her cheeks for her. Rose inhaled sharply against the sting and the Doctor's eyes narrowed in concern as he peered closer to get a better look at what was causing her pain. She tried to smile at him, to show him it was nothing more than a bit of wind burn. All she needed was a good week of lotion. Her cheeks felt agonizingly raw from the cold and wet and crying, and unfortunately, even though his handkerchief was soft, it still felt brutal against her swollen face.

"I've got a salve in the TARDIS infirmary that'll fix that right up," he told her softly, gently thumbing her cheek. His thumb felt cool and soothing against the flaming burn on her skin. Her eyes drifted shut momentarily as she enjoyed the feel of his hand on her cheek, and she nodded her thanks to him for the salve that awaited her.

Feeling him withdraw, she reluctantly opened her eyes, daring a quick glance at Jack as the Doctor put the handkerchief back into his pocket. She immediately regretted doing so. He'd obviously been watching their small moment together and was now looking down at the two of them with a wide smile across his face. She fought the urge to make a face at him, but the flush in her cheeks made it pretty obvious his assumptions were correct.

Needing to change the subject, she asked, "What about Mickey?"

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow as he stood. "I honestly... don't know." He looked over at Jack, who shrugged. "I suppose we'll have to go and check him out as well." The idea didn't really appeal, but she knew it was necessary and so she agreed. The Doctor stepped closer to Rose, reaching out to her as if to pull her up.

Her head was still spinning, and everything was slightly out of focus, and he grasped her firmly and tugged, pulling her up. She felt like a newborn deer, as unsteady as she was on her feet, and fell against his chest, disoriented and dizzy.

"Easy there...take it easy," he murmured, easing her away from him slightly, allowing her to get her feet under control as he studied her carefully to see if she was alright. The space in between them grew cold and she suddenly felt very alone. She didn't want to be away from him - she needed him close - there was too much space in between.

It was if someone was holding opposite ends of a magnet apart - the pull was simply too strong. Leaning back towards him, into him, Rose slowly brought her arms around him and pulled at him to hold her close - closer - desperate to feel him against her. She needed to be held, needed the comfort that only he could provide. To her great relief, his arms finally and equally tightened around her and he tucked her head into his neck, taking care to hold her as she begged to be held. For a moment, it was as if time didn't matter. It didn't have to move forward; there were no expectations or things that had to be done. Problems didn't have to exist and finding answers could be left for another day. The sound of the rain was soothing against her back and she felt her heart begin to regulate and her breathing became easier, as she listened to his own double heartbeats and steady breathing against her - a need of constant regularity and calm, and it gave her peace. She could feel his warm breath upon her shoulder and goosebumps covered her flesh from the heat of it.

"My mum really may not be dead?" she murmured quietly into his shoulder, knowing that he would never intentionally lie to her, but she needed to know - needed him to be sure. She was reeling from the news, and jumbled. It was as if the laws of nature were no longer in effect anymore. Up wasn't up and down wasn't down. Rhyme and reason were out the window, and the only constant she could cling to, was holding her tightly in his arms, and even as she thought it, her heart was breaking, because he wasn't constant, and he was most certainly not hers. He was too big, too great, and he would eventually leave her, like everyone else...

Taking a deep breath, desperate to leave those painful and deeply hidden secret thoughts behind, she lifted her eyes to meet his. "Doctor?"

He shook his head slowly at her, his nose touching hers in a gentle brush as he told her "no", his eyes lighting up ever so slightly and a grin gently made it's way across his face. And at that, his smile, she crumbled. The thought of being left alone was her worst fear, and the past few days that fear had been her reality, and the truth just didn't want to sink in.

"She's not dead?" she said, trying to get the words to make sense in her mind. She repeated it. "She's not dead?"

Rose felt a brutal stab of jubilation. Brutal because when one was caught up in a nightmare such as this, hope was a cruel game to play. Hope could break her, and she wasn't strong enough to gain it, only to have it taken again.

But her Doctor wouldn't play with her like this, would never lie to her, would never be so cruel as to do this to her. Rose's heart thumped wildly against her chest and she felt a numb tingling in her arms. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she half-sobbed into the Doctor who had wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, pulling her once again, flush against him. While she let go and lost the little grip she'd had on trying to reign in her grief.

Her Joy and hope now mixed in amongst her pain and loss, made her feel like she had no control anymore. Not over herself, not over her emotions, and certainly not over the situation. She turned her head to the side and the Doctor's rough jacket lapel stung as it scraped against her raw cheeks. Rose didn't care. The pain on her cheek only added to the pain she felt churning within.

Sucking in a deep breath of fresh air, similar to how she assumed a fish would after being thrown back into the water from a fisherman, she glanced up at Jack, her heart going to him as she watched him blink back tears as he watched her fall to pieces in the Doctor's arms. She wanted to give him a smile to let him know that she was alright. She knew that the situation called for her to tell him that she was okay, or at least was going to be. But she couldn't. She could only stare at him with wide, blurry eyes as she hiccuped and clung to the Doctor, like a small child.

"How can she not be dead? How did we get this wrong?" she choked tearfully to them. Neither man could respond, although the Doctor did begin patting her, instead of rubbing circles along her back and shoulders. He tightened his hold on her, trying to reassure her as best he could, and she found that it did help. She calmed down enough to choke out the words that were whirling through her mind on a constant loop.

"Where is my mum then, Doctor?"

He stiffened slightly and stopped patting her, moving his hands to her cheeks as he said, "I really don't know, Rose. But I promise you," his eyes grew very dark, "... we're going to find out." He looked her over carefully for a few more moments, his eyes searching for something, ensuring that she believed him, she supposed, and that she wasn't going to fall apart if he let her go, before he stepped away and walked back to the casket. His usual swagger was back as he twirled his sonic screwdriver in his hand before running it over the length of the coffin, this time with a determined expression and slightly mad twinkle in his eye that wasn't there moments ago. This was her Doctor - armed with information and ready to get on with it.

Rose didn't know whether to laugh or cry or to simply pass out from exhaustion. She didn't feel happy - that was for sure, but she wasn't in agony anymore either. Yet, she'd surfaced from her numb comatose state, but she still couldn't say that any particular feeling in general came to the forefront of her mind. It felt as if she'd exhausted all her ability to feel anything, and so she was simply existing for the time being. Void-like, she decided. She felt void-like. Stumbling slightly, she felt Jack's arm slip around her waist, tucking her securely under his arm as he lead her over to the Doctor, who was now crouched down.

She stared at the coffin, and asked, "Well, if that isn't my mum, there..." she pointed. "Then who is in there?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Whoever it is, has got the cell molecular reconstruction down to an art form. Everything is exactly the same - skin, hair, shape, every base pair of chromosomes and every gene - they all match Jackie - _well_, it is Jackie, in a way, I suppose - just not as we know her."

"What do you mean, it's mum?" Rose asked. "I thought we already established that this wasn't mum."

He was already nodding to her, a devilish grin upon his expression as he explained, clearly falling into his element. "We've established that this body is not your mother's body, Rose, but..." he paused, pulling his eyeglasses out of his pocket and perched them on his nose as he continued to explain.

"Every pair of chromosomes are exactly the same as our Jackie - all 23 pairs. Even her DNA is an exact replica of our Jackie as far as human genetics go. But what enabled me to discover that this was not our Jackie, are the additional pairs of chromosomes that this body carries. These genes don't seem to have a specific job... in fact, they seem to morph continually, which made them difficult to locate originally. When I scanned them with the sonic screwdriver earlier, they were constantly changing under the light rays, never staying the same. I'm not sure the type of alien this could be - I'm not even sure I've ever seen it before - but I don't see it as being anything other than alien."

"You said the genes continue to morph?" Jack called.

The Doctor grinned. "Oh yes, it's brilliant! Beautiful, even!"

Rose huffed. "What does the morphing genes have anything to do with my mum?" she asked moodily, needing the Doctor to reach a point.

He sobered quickly. "The morphing chromosomes indicate to me that the alien has the ability to take the form of another being with less chromosome pairs than it, such as humans. Jack have you any ideas?" the Doctor called back over to Jack, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Well the only alien species with morphing abilities I've come across during my time travelling is the Mmicus - and let me tell you, they were an... interesting species. You should have seen me and a friend of mine stumble across a crew of em'. Definitely made "messing around with oneself" take on a whole new meaning."

Rose stared at him incredulously.

"What?" he defended, eyes twinkling. "It was enjoyable. For everyone. You can ask _me_!" he chuckled at his own joke before his expression grew more serious. "One of the nicer memories back then. And it was really back then - way in the past, when things weren't so pleasant... right before... no _during _the Time War..." Jack trailed off as he realized what he was saying, staring wide-eyed at the Doctor. Rose started to open her mouth.

"The Mmicus," the Doctor said thoughtfully, his face full of shadows and yet remained impassive as he lifted his hand to rest against his forehead, as if to ward off a sudden headache. Absently, with his other hand, he once again picked out his screw driver and started fiddling with the cogs and gears, pushing things at random.

"Doctor?" Jack questioned worriedly, but was ignored as the Doctor lost himself to his past, deep in thought. Jack and Rose shared mixed questioning looks but stayed quiet.

The three were silent together for what seemed like an eternity, but really was only several minutes before the Doctor started mumbling to himself.

"The Mmicus? Could it be? That would mean they'd have to have travelled forward in time, but that doesn't make any sense. They didn't have time travelling capabilities back then, and besides, they were lost in the war, innocent casualties along with... No... That can't be... How would they even... No... just...no." The Doctor seemed to shake himself, ridding himself of memories lost and coming back to himself.

"Nice idea Jack, but I think we're looking at something more realistic. Something genetically engineered or grown, maybe, or a species we've simply not come across before," the Doctor said staring Rose dead in the eyes. "Nonetheless, I think we can all be assured that this is indeed not our Jackie."

He gave Rose a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes at all. Talk of the war and the memories it brought up were always rough on him. When he did speak of the Time War, which wasn't often at all, but it always left her feeling more curious than she'd begun. Perhaps Jack would be more forthcoming, if she asked him about it. The Mmicus sounded like fascinating creatures... if not as perverse as the Captain could sometimes be. She tried to smile back to the Doctor, not wanting him to grow more concerned at her lack of response simply because her mind wandered. She was positive her return was as forced as his attempt had been. Perhaps now was the best time to talk to him about the thing that had been bothering her, still.

"I knew, Doctor."

"Knew what?" he asked somewhat absently.

"I just knew it couldn't be her - it just didn't feel right - it was deep guttural feeling that told me she was still alive," Rose said, staring deep into the Doctor's concerned face.

The Doctor peered at Rose, speculatively. "And that leads us to another question. About how you, Rose Tyler, knew that this wasn't your mother."

Rose stared back at him, a prickling sensation making it's way up her neck. Jack turned and looked at her in confusion as well. Rose suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable, like she had been thrust on stage without a script, but she didn't know why. She had nothing to be embarrassed for. How was she supposed to put an explanation to these strange occurrences? It wasn't like she knew what was going on. She definitely wasn't enjoying learning about the things she found herself knowing.

"I don't understand it myself, Doctor," Rose said with a sigh. "All I know is that I felt sick and overcome with this feeling - this bad feeling - and my stomach was turning over, and when I reached out it was like an electric shock... as if a power surge was running through my body. Starting in my finger tips and bursting throughout my body in a sudden rush... It's hard to explain but it hit me like a gut feeling; I just knew." She looked at the Doctor through saddened, confused eyes.

"That still doesn't explain how you would have known..." the Doctor said, scratching the back of his neck with his hand, his attention now completely focused on Rose. "You are 100% human, which means that you simply don't have the internal workings to produce telepathic connection."

Jack was nodding as the Doctor spoke. "It's impossible, kiddo."

"Well," the Doctor said, elongating the word, "not impossible, but very impractical." There was a thoughtful expression upon his face as he studied the sonic screwdriver before running it over Rose's head, scanning her head.

"I don't understand, and I understand everything," he said dramatically, as he pulled a small tool out of his inside pocket and peered at her through it, closing in on yer eyes and then backing away before poking it into her right ear. It looked to Rose like the tool that the Optician uses when they peer into your eye with a bright light, which would make sense, but he was now studying the tips of her fingers with it. He lowered it and stared at her, his eyes wide with enthusiasm.

"This - this can't happen! You're human."

She fought the urge to smack him.

"It must be... but that's impossible. Maybe something's infecting you? Where would you have picked up something? We've not gone anywhere that's dangerous for humans. Nothing for you get infected _with_. Maybe there's something pulling your mind into a Chronon shell? Some sort of subatomic connection. Maybe something macro mining your DNA within the interior matrix? Maybe a genetic..."

Finally swatting at him to keep still, she demanded, "What are you going on about?"

He grabbed her hands and held them palms up as he studied them. He gently traced the lines in her hands before moving down her fingers, brushing her fingertips gently with his own. His fingers slowly made their way back to her open palms and he pressed down gently with two fingers, as if to check for a pulse.

"Have you eaten anything different recently? You've really got to think. Is there anything new that might have caused this?"

"Caused what, Doctor?" she asked sharply.

"Anything you might have done? Any sort of alien contact? You always go wandering off when I tell you not to - you always manage to find something dangerous."

She looked at him, offended.

"Or... did you touch something? Something - something different? Something made out of a sort of metal or a biological sampling? Well, that's not a good question really, is it? It's not as if you would know if you had. Otherwise, you probably wouldn't have touched it." He looked at her apologetically. "You wouldn't touch something metal or biological if you didn't know what it was, would you?"

She exhaled slowly at him. "No."

"It's just that these readings are unprecedented, Rose." The Doctor told her. "It's extremely improbable that you could have known what you claim to have felt.

"Are you saying I didn't know? That I somehow... made it up? That I didn't feel what I felt?"

The Doctor and his gadget backed away and Jack raised his arms defensively. "We're not saying that at all, Rosie. It's just very unlikely that you knew telepathically, seeing as how you can't be telepathic."

The Doctor suddenly gasped, and Rose whirled around to see what had caused his shock. He was staring at her in awe, as if she were something precious, something to behold, holy, even. Rose felt like fleeing under his awed scrutiny.

"But she is," the Doctor whispered. "But that's not possible."

Jack whipped his head to look at the Doctor. "What did you say?"

"I'm not telepathic, right?" Rose asked. "I mean... it's probably something that I would know, if I was."

The Doctor continued staring at her in awe. "You are and you aren't."

"I am and I'm not telepathic? Stop talking in riddles and start making some sense, Doctor!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying." He paced back and forth in front of her, frowning as he worked out what he was going to say. "You are human, born human - you shouldn't have any telepathic ability whatsoever. Humans in this time period haven't accessed the other parts of the brain yet, and even after they do, it's rare and have to be trained and built up over long periods of time. Not to mention you would have had to be injected by a genetically engineered bacteria that colonizes the dendrites that produce a very specific neuro-transmitter that allows access to the psychic subconscious of the human brain. Which, you wouldn't have had the time to build it up to the levels you are showing, even if you did manage to access it - no, even then, it just couldn't be possible."

He looked at Rose inquisitively as he gazed down at the sonic readings. "And yet it says here, clear as can be..." He looked back at Rose.

"What?" Rose demanded. "What does it say? Doctor, tell me!"

"You have brain activity where you shouldn't have. Massive amounts of it, in fact, it's lighting up like fireworks on New Year. Human beings don't gain anything remotely similar in the brain, to this until after the 51st century."

Jack nodded, grimacing. "I still remember the day I was injected with the chemical concoction that unlocked that part of the brain. I had a headache for years afterwards."

The Doctor nodded sympathetically. "The 51st century was barbaric in it's early practices of telepathy and psychic training." He looked over the scans one last time before turning his attention back to Rose. "These readings can't be right. From what I can tell, it says that your telepathic levels exceed mine."

The Doctor thumped the sonic screwdriver a few times with his thumb, as if to clear the readings. Obviously unsuccessful, he turned his attention back towards Rose. He stared at her unabashedly, head tilted slightly as if she were a new challenge to figure out - something broken that needed to be fixed, only he hadn't quite figured out how to do so. She half expected him to pull out a magnifying glass and start peering closely at her with it, like a scientist would a mouse in a laboratory. She felt a sudden rush of sympathy for lab rats everywhere.

"Exceed yours?" Jack asked, his mouth dropping open in shock. "I thought the Time Lords were only second to the Oods."

The Doctor looked indignant at being told he was second to any race, but instead of arguing, he only looked at Jack disapprovingly as he muttered to himself, "I'd rather be second to the Ood than a giant head in a jar for a millennium."

Jack frowned. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

Rose looked at the Doctor, and didn't know what to say to the way he was behaving. Even Jack looked thoroughly confused. The Doctor began pacing back and forth once again. "Jackie isn't Jackie - or at least the Jackie that is our Jackie, and Rose has brain activity where she shouldn't have any brain activity at all... I wonder if the two are connected." He looked giddy at the prospect of discovering something new as he stood in front of Rose. "How do you feel?"

Rose literally was speechless. How could he ask her that? How did she feel? After everything she'd gone through the past few days, she honestly didn't know. She shrugged.

"When you realized that it wasn't your mum in there - how did you feel then?" he specified.

Rose thought for a moment and stared at her hands. "I felt sick. Ill - like I was going to be sick and pass out all at the same time. My head hurt and my stomach was in knots."

"And then, you just knew it somehow wasn't her? Did you only seem to recognize that the coffin might be empty or..."

Rose was already shaking her head, no. She tried to explain, "It's sort of like when you see an car accident before it happens, yeah? You can see both cars coming at each other and everything suddenly moves in slow motion. You know they're going to crash, and your body tenses up to prepare itself for the jerk or noise or whatever you think you're going to feel. And then they crash and it's unsurprising because you knew all along that it was going to happen. It was like that. I just looked at the coffin, and it was as if I could see that it wasn't going to be my mother in the end. I tensed up and it's like my body just knew to wait for the answer to show up. That it wasn't my mother in there. And then it did, and I was right."

"It happened like that both times today?" he asked.

Rose nodded. "The last time, yeah. The earlier times today, not so much. When I was near my mum earlier, my stomach would clench and I'd feel nauseated, but that's it. It's when I touched her that the whole sickness became unbearable and it felt like my whole being was revolting against touching her. I didn't know anything specific then, only that I could barely stand to be near her. But in the end, I still needed to touch her and say goodbye - I had to," her voice broke and his dark brown eyes showed such sympathy, but he nodded for her to continue, and so she tried. "I had to force myself to touch her, in the end. And by then, it wasn't so much about saying goodbye, as it was to how quickly I could get away."

The Doctor nodded as he took in all the information; his forehead creasing deeply due to his concentration. Rose wobbled on her feet, feeling both unstable and unbalanced, insecure and nervous, and deeply confused. Jack held her tighter against him and she laid her head against his collarbone, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. Jack had always made her feel safe, like that of a big brother. Well, a big brother who flirted religiously. It wasn't often that she sought him out for comfort - the truth of it was that she didn't have feelings for him like that.

There were times in which she'd tried to - it would have been easier at times to reciprocate the feelings he so easily gave off. But her heart continued time and time again to gravitate towards another individual. She sighed. It was fruitless to continue these kinds of thoughts. _He _would never look at her in that way. And the more she reminded herself of that fact, the closer she got to convincing herself of it. Or so she kept telling herself.

Jack heard her sigh and kissed her gently on the forehead before looking up towards the Doctor. She wondered at those "slightly telepathic" abilities he'd told her about, but a quick glance up didn't give anything away. Or maybe he was very good at hiding them.

"Doc," Jack said, interrupting her train of thought. "Why don't we move this conversation back to the TARDIS."

"What?" the Doctor said, irritated at being interrupted whilst in deep thought. Jack nodded towards Rose and the Doctor followed his gaze. She must have looked dreadful, because the next thing she knew, the Doctor was nodding and leading the way out of the cemetery, his stride purposeful and his head high. As much as Rose wanted to join in on the excitement and happiness that her companion obviously held, she simply felt slow and exhausted, and sick to her stomach - again. At least it wasn't like the agonizing pain she'd felt earlier when the jolt of whatever it was jumped through her... no, it was much more like when she was a kid, and had binged on sugar all day and was crashing at the end of the day.

Jack was being very gentle with her as he held her close, guiding her away from the open grave. She was shuffling her feet, she knew, but it was cold and she felt worn - old even - much older than her actual age.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she realized the importance of what had just happened - the information finally sinking in. Her mother wasn't dead - she hadn't just buried her. She might be alive somewhere, with Mickey. The joy that filled her, consumed her, warmed the ice that had frozen over her heart and for the first time in days she felt free to breathe.

Her heart skipped a beat, the weight which had been growing there lifted; leaving her feeling giddy and excited, very like a child with a new toy. She felt elated at the idea of her mother being alive once again and wanted only to rush to the TARDIS and go and find her, see her mother with her own eyes and physically be able to feel her once again.

But what if they were in trouble? What if she and the Doctor and Jack had figured things out too late? What if she couldn't find them? Would she be burying them again in a few days time? Would she even be able to find them in order to bury them? The joy that ran through her suddenly clenched and faltered, as she let out a low moan, her arm raising to her head, as if to push against the anguished thoughts that filtered through her mind.

Looking back, her eyes blurry and damp, at the casket where she'd just spend hours and hours mourning her loss. Who was in there? If it wasn't her mum, was it still Jackie? A Jackie? It looked like her mum. What if this Jackie was someone lost? Was she all alone? Had she sought her out? Had she needed help?

Rose broke away from Jack, then, stumbling back towards the open grave. They'd walked quite far since she turned around and her heart broke a little more as she saw the amount of distance already between where she now stood and where the woman that could have been her mother lay. It was distressing to see how the physical space between the person you love and yourself grew as you walk away. Watching the distance between your bodies expand until there's nothing left but the sound of your beating heart against the quiet silence of your loved one.

For Rose, it suddenly felt all the more real. It didn't matter that the woman in the coffin wasn't her mother. It could have been. The pain that she felt in her chest and soul and mind was real. Her fear for the truth was real - was her mother really dead? Was she alive? Was she being hurt by someone, right now? Or was this really her - about to be lowered into the ground, alone and completely by herself?

It didn't matter anymore who it was - the body looked like her mother, and the heartbreak that Rose felt for her death was real. And she couldn't simply leave her alone - to be put in the cold, deep ground without being there to witness it, to be close, to offer whatever kind of support and thanks and comfort she could. She owed it to her, even if it was only an imitation of the real thing.

"Rose?" Jack asked in surprise, as she spun away from him. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I can't just leave her here," she said brokenly, falling to her knees as she tripped over some gravel. Having tumbled towards the ground once more, she leaned over and placed her face in her hands. "This is too much - I can't...I can't..." She sobbed. It really was overwhelming, and she'd gone through so much over the past few days, and today - the worst day of her life - was too much to bear. She felt as if she were on an emotional overload, and could hardly make a coherent thought, much less try and reign in the collision of thoughts and feelings that ran through her head and heart.

The Doctor was beside her now, having run back to her when he heard her anguished cries, and was whispering words of nonsense to her, trying to get her up again, trying to get her to leave - but she couldn't. Leaving would mean that she accepted this, that she believed and _hoped_ that her mother was alive. And she'd been without hope for too long to believe that it was all going to be alright in the end.

"Where's the proof?" she begged, pushing away the hair from her eyes and looking up at him. "How do we know this isn't her? What if this is her - just someone's done something to her? How do we know we'll find the real her - that she's out there, alive?"

The Doctor paused, rocking back on his heels. He looked at her then, thoughtful and concerned, yet deadly serious as he mulled over her questions. His brows furrowed as he reached out to brush the tears from her eyes. His skin was soft as he gently brushed against her with his fingers, and she sighed as a relaxing calm began to spread through her. His mouth opened as if to say something, and he clamped it shut again taking a moment's pause, seemingly to think about the words he wanted to say, how he wanted to say it, and how he could possibly say it in a way that wouldn't give Rose too much hope. She watched the emotions flit across his expression and she tightened her hold on him in response to his trepidation, knowing that he needed some sort of sign from her to give him the confidence to say what needed to be said, even if it would hurt her to hear the words in the end.

He looked at her very seriously, his eyes shining with emotion as he lowered his head so that he could meet her directly in the eye. "Rose, oh Rose. My beautiful Rose. You've been such a trooper. You're tired and you're in pain and I wish for all the universe that I could take that hurt from you. And I know it's a lot to take in, especially after today - but Rose, you've got to believe me. I would never hurt you like this."

"He's right, kiddo," Jack interrupted, crouching down beside the two of them, "this isn't your mum, which means she's out there and we've got to find her."

"And Mickey," Rose interjected, weeping.

"And Rickey the Idiot," the Doctor said with a smile. Rose felt heartsick.

"C'mon, that's a girl," Jack said, helping the Doctor lift Rose up of the ground. Aware that she was probably covered in mud, she cringed for a moment before grabbing hold of the Doctor and Jack's outstretched hands. She was unsteady on her feet as she stood, and then the world somewhat shifted, turning a bit grey, and she felt a wave of dizziness come over her, pulling her back down to the earth. She would have hit the ground hard, had it not been for the Doctor grabbing hold of her around the waist quickly. It felt as if she'd just spent the last ten minutes whirling around in circles, only to stop suddenly and have the world continue to rush around her as she tried to hold on for dear life.

Then have everything rush at her all of a sudden - the momentum of everything finally crashing around her, forcing her to catch up emotionally, was just enormous in it's complexity. She managed to keep her eyes open, forcing them to stay that way, even if she was finding the world all too blurry for her liking.

Something caught her attention - a man dressed in black stood just at the corner of her eye. He wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, but there was something about him that caught her attention and made her look twice.

"Who's that?" she asked, pointing over her shoulder, her head spinning as she worked to focus on the individual. "Doctor - who's that man over there?"

The Doctor turned in the direction she was pointing, and looked for a long moment before turning back to Rose in confusion.

"I don't see anyone - there's no one there." His eyes held questions.

Rose's forehead wrinkled and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I could've sworn I just saw someone standing there, starin' right at us."

"It was probably just someone walking by," Jack said reassuringly. "Could've been anyone, really."

Rose nodded, although she couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right. "There was a man there, Doctor, I know it."

There was something about the way he had been standing - something about the way he was staring right at her. As if he could see into her soul and was pushing in some sort of darkness into her. She shivered.

"How do you want to get back to the TARDIS, Doc?" Jack asked, setting his hands on his hips as he studied the empty parking lot they now stood in front of.

The Doctor sighed as he looked around the now empty cemetery before gently stepping back from Rose. "Wait, just a minute, let me get..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "Jack - let me see your wrist for a moment."

"Sorry, Doc - it's broken," Jack said, apologetically. "Has been for ages."

"It is a bit rusted," the Doctor frowned in concentration as he pushed his screwdriver into Jack's Vortex Manipulator, "well...a bit more than a bit. Looks to be quite ancient, actually."

Jack's expression darkened as he pulled his arm out of the Doctor's grasp. Rose's heart went out in sympathy for him as she watched a myriad of pain and emotion flit across his face. Jack, who was always so jovial and flirty - so heroic and captivating, was suddenly withdrawn and distant; cold even. Rose saw that the Doctor had also noticed the change in Jack's presence, as he gave Jack a considering glance before narrowing his eyes in concern and curiosity. "How long did you say it's been for you since we saw you last, Jack?"

Jack's eyes darkened all the more as he finally sighed and raised his own face to the Doctor challengingly. "I didn't."

"Jack," the Doctor started, taking a step towards him. "What happened to your vortex manipulator? That one," he said, pointing to Jack's wrist, "shows wear and tear much older than you could possibly be. Where did you pick it up?"

"Don't," Jack stopped him, putting up a hand. "I really don't want to talk about it."

The Doctor nodded slowly, his eyes alert and sharply focused on Jack's, but he turned his attention back to the vortex manipulator, which was now shooting small sparks, causing Jack to jump.

"We can discuss it later," the Doctor offered gently, not looking back at Jack as he concentrated on the vortex manipulator.

Jack looked down towards his feet for a long moment before nodding once. Rose wasn't sure how the Doctor knew that he had nodded, but the Doctor had nodded back to himself in confirmation to Jack's slightly forced agreement. Rose wondered for a moment if they were speaking telepathically, but then shook her head. The Doctor had to touch someone in order for his telepathic link to work. At least, that's what he had lead her to believe when he'd told her about his link with Reinette back on the Madame de Pompedour ship. Her curiosity piqued, but not enough to tear her attention away from seeking out the person causing the nagging feeling in her gut. Something wasn't right and she needed to understand what was causing her concern.

Turning his attention back to Rose, he looked towards the direction she was focused on. She was pretty sure that that someone was there, even if currently unseen. It made her feel unsettled and she didn't like it. Jack put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a small squeeze. She turned her head in his direction and was touched by the concern spread over his face.

"Got it!" the Doctor smirked. "All fixed."

Jack's concern melted away as a grin made it's way across his face. Turning back to the Doctor, he practically bounced on his heels in jubilation. "You got it to work, Doc? Really? I've been working on that for ages! That's amazing! Brilliant!"

"I am clever, me," the Doctor said as he raised an eyebrow and grinned back at Jack.

"So you've told us," Jack answered dryly, pushing buttons and testing out all of the now working features..

"I'm not letting you keep it." The Doctor told him as tucked away the screwdriver into the inside of his coat pocket.

"I figured as much," Jack replied softly, staring longingly at his wrist strap, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly. The Doctor stared long and hard at him for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but before he could work up what he was going to say, Rose grabbed hold of him and turned him in the direction she was still staring at.

The air was shimmering in the spot she pointed out, like ripples in a pond, and she watched, fascinated and somewhat scared of what it might be.

"Doctor, there is someone there," she whispered to him. "There was a man - I saw him looking at us."

The Doctor peered at the tree and then turned back to her, shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry, Rose, but I don't see anyone there." He closed his eyes for a long moment, concentrating, before opening them again. "I don't even sense another presence here other than us. Look around - we're the only ones left."

Rose glanced around and found that what he said was true - the cemetery was completely empty. But something was nagging at her, something deep and guttural and real. Something that made her heart pound and her hands clammy, and she just knew, without a doubt, that they were still being watched by someone. Her eyes scanned the empty cemetery, desperate to put a person to the presence she was feeling, but the Doctor was right. There was no one in visible sight. And yet, the skin on her arms and on the back of her neck prickled, as goosebumps covered her skin. She held the feeling that they were being watched and she fought the urge to turn in circles, searching out every shadow and corner until she found the person she was sure was looking back.

But there was no one to be seen. Desperately, she turned towards Jack. "Did you see him?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, no. When I turned to where you and the Doc were pointing, there was no one there."

"Rose, I think maybe we should get going," the Doctor said, reaching out for her hand. She avoided him, taking a step backwards.

"Please believe me - I'm not making it up," she pleaded. "There is someone watching us - I can tell. I feel it. I saw a shimmer."

The Doctor looked at her in concern. "Rose, I think it's been a really long day..."

Her eyes narrowed at him and she crossed her arms across her chest. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" he looked baffled.

"Don't be condescending. Not to me." She was furious. "Not today."

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to be." He still looked more concerned than apologetic, as far as she could tell.

"I need you to believe me."

He took a step towards her. "I always believe you, Rose," he said softly.

His expression was open and earnest, almost like that of childlike innocence. She gazed deeply into his eyes, searching for the truth behind his words. She didn't have to search long - he was telling the truth. Of course he was. She was simply overtired and emotionally spent, and at the end of a very long day, she was finding challenges where none were meant to be found. So what if there had been a man standing there looking in their direction. She honestly had no idea why she was letting it bother her so much. Apparently, she was more tired than she thought, because she now needed to add paranoia to her mix of emotional problems. Even though she couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling of someone watching her, she realized it didn't matter. What did matter was the fact that they were standing in the rain, and it was cold, and they needed to get to the TARDIS so they could go and see Mickey, and maybe find a clue to the whereabouts of her Mum and her best friend.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, Jack," she said, glancing at each one as she said their name. "You're right - there's no one there." Rose put a hand to her head - the pounding had started again. "I still have this nagging feeling in my gut that something's wrong, you know, that someone's watching us, but it really doesn't matter and now I'm just tired and cold and I really just want to go."

Jack gave her a half-grin and grasped tightly onto her arm as well as the Doctor's arm. "Give me just a tic, and we'll be there before you can say, _Raxacoricofallapatorius." _

The Doctor grinned as he grabbed onto Jack and slung an arm around Rose's shoulders, gripping her tightly. "Hold on," he said and pushed down on Jack's Vortex Manipulator.

The world spun and plummeted, and it was as if time had both sped up and slowed down in a single instance. Rose's feet left the ground, and yet, she hadn't moved and still felt hard Earth under her the entire time they'd spun. She heard a voice in her head telling her to go ahead and look, to admire, to gain. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to see and didn't have a clue what she was supposed to gain, but she opened her eyes, desperate to admire what she was being led to see. Her eyes opened and what she saw in a single moment was both incredible and horrifying. It was like biting into an apple from the Tree of Knowledge, and learning the truths of the world in one single bite.

She could see time - for a single moment. All of space and all of time in one single flying moment. It rushed towards her, in her, through her, and was fast enough that she couldn't even gasp or draw in a single breath, quicker than blinking, and yet at the same time, it was as if time itself had stopped - elongated somehow - and although she could still tell how quickly time was moving, in her mind it was as if years, centuries even, had lasted, and then it was gone. Before she knew it, they had arrived and she had been released. The Doctor and Jack were both moving forward, moving away from her, and she could only stand there as the world and the universe and all of time and space rushed back out of her.

Her hands flew to her face, covering her eyes, trying to block out what she could see, and sliding down to cover her mouth. She fell to her knees with a low moan, scraping her knees on the pavement. Tears poured out of her eyes - she was finding it impossible to blink - her eyes were frozen in a wide fear, and she trembled with the understood amazement and horror of what she'd witnessed. "I can't close my eyes. I can't close my eyes." Her mouth was moving - she felt it against her fingertips - she was speaking, but heard nothing.

"Rose, what's wrong?" The Doctor had moved to her side and was pulling her upwards. The movement was too quick and before she knew it, she was down again. Still reeling as if moving, she rocked with a terrible case of vertigo.

"My eyes," she whispered as she reached up to touch them. "I can't stop seeing."

"What? What did you see?" The Doctor was yelling - she could tell. He was so close, she could feel his hot breath against her face. She could see him - his face was rough with desperate concern, but she didn't understand why he was yelling. "Rose - tell me. What did you see?"

The roar in her ears was deafening, and yet, she could hear perfectly well. "Wh...Why are you screaming?" she choked out at the Doctor, as tears continued to pour from her eyes.

His voice lowered then, and he gripped her shoulders roughly. "Talk to me. Tell me what you saw? You had your eyes open? You looked while we moved?"

She nodded as she trembled in his arms. "I didn't mean to - I didn't know I wasn't supposed to. I just needed to see - something was telling me to look."

Nausea hit her suddenly, and she hunched forward, feeling violently ill. The bad feeling that had haunted her in the cemetery now hit her ten-fold. It pierced into her, like the blade of a knife, deep in her gut, and throbbed, burning. It was as if fury itself had made it's way into her and erupted in waves against her, into her, and she was helpless to fight it.

"It's back," she cried, holding her abdomen, forced to bend from the agony in her gut. "We're being watched."

The Doctor leaped up away from Rose, and began running around the exterior of the TARDIS, searching for the someone that was hurting her.

"Whose there?" he called out. "Make yourself present."

The wind blew against the trees, making them rock and shiver, but no one came forward.

Jack now knelt beside her, pulling her hair from her eyes as she was sick on the cool pavement. Her skin was hot and she felt clammy as he pulled her against him. He held her reassuringly, as he looked up at the Doctor.

"Do you think she saw the Vortex?" he asked.

The Doctor frowned. "It's not possible. Humans don't have the ability to see it. The optic nerves don't travel fast enough for the brain to compute what their vision witnesses."

"Like humans don't have telepathic ability?" Jack said as he tightened his hold on her, trying to cease her tremors.

Rose screamed as another wave of pain and nausea hit her. Her mind was still a mass of whirling confusion - she'd seen too much and she couldn't stop the images that now haunted her.

The Doctor groaned and pulled his glasses out of his pocket. "I don't know what's happening, but I'm going to find out! Get her inside the TARDIS - quick. Her heart rate is speeding up and she's going to go into cardiac arrest if we don't calm her down."

The world moved as Jack picked her up off of the ground and into her arms. She reached out desperately to try and hold on to something, as she knew she was going to fall and she heard Jack's gentle admonishing, "Take it easy, I've got you. Be still or I'm gonna drop you."

Rose pulled her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. Hurt and confused and sick - she didn't know what was happening, but she knew she was scared. She heard the Doctor unlock the TARDIS and felt Jack turn to slide in the door.

As she turned in his arms, she saw the same figure in black, standing in broad daylight not ten feet away from her, grinning. Her mouth dropped open as she stared in disbelief. Pounding Jack on the shoulders, she screeched, "He's there - he's standing right there."

"Wha?" Jack said, his voice halting as Rose's elbow came in contact with his voice box.

"Who are you?" Rose screamed. "What do you want?"

"It won't be long, now." She heard in her mind, rather than in her ears. The man - the same man that she'd seen at the funeral - his lips didn't move. His grin turned downwards as he turned and disappeared.

"NO!" she cried. "Come back! What won't be long now?"

The Doctor grabbed her out of Jack's arms and yanked her towards him.

"He was right there, Doctor! Did you see him?" Rose felt herself growing hysterical. "He spoke to me, b...but his lips didn't m...move."

The Doctor looked at Jack. "Did you see who it was?" he asked sharply.

Jack shook his head quickly. "I looked when she started screaming, but I didn't see anything."

Rose sobbed. "He's d...doing something to me, I can f...feel it." Her teeth were chatting now, and she was freezing. Her lips were burning now, as well as her chest. She felt beyond terrified.

"I'm going to figure this out," the Doctor tried to tell her, but she was too far past caring.

"W...Why didn't his lips move, D...Doctor?" she asked helplessly. "What does h...he want with m...me?"

Everything started to turn grey and she felt her face go slack as she lost a bit more control over her limbs. Her eyes begun to roll and she was having difficulty staying conscious.

The Doctor turned to Jack and roughly gave orders. "Go into the TARDIS and get me that black kit next to my tool bag."

"The First Aid bag?" Jack questioned quickly.

"It's in the First Aid bag. It's the little black kit inside."

"You want to d...drug me?" Rose asked, slurring.

The Doctor held her. "You've got to calm down - your heart rate is racing and I've got to slow it down. The best way to do that is to put you into an induced sleep. Your body will do all of the work."

"I d...don't want to be knocked out!" Rose yelled, trying to tear herself away from him. "No! I'm c...calm! I'm calm!"

Her head was pounding - it was like someone was hitting her over and over again with a pile of bricks. She wanted to lay on the ground and close her eyes - make herself completely still in order to stop the world from going in circles. But she couldn't - she had to stay awake - had to find out where her Mum and Mickey were - had to save them - had to...

"I'm sorry, Rose," she heard Jack say as he moved towards her, his arm outstretched with the syringe.

"Why are you d...doing this? No - I said n...no! I don't w...want this," she yelled, irate and upset, willing her hands to push against him, push herself away. Willing herself to focus on him. But to her horror, her arms refused to cooperate, and for one long moment all she could do was stare daftly at them, feeling confused and hurt and angry, before the world tilted before her and a fog clouded her vision.

"How c...could you?" she slurred as her knees gave way and she started the slow plummet towards the earth.

"I didn't do anything, Rose!" she heard Jack say. "Doctor - I didn't inject her yet!"

"Grab her, quick!" she heard the Doctor yell.

"She's having some sort of...seizure," Jack said worriedly. "What's causing it?"

"I don't know," the Doctor responded, his voice thin and on edge, "but hold her arms down so she doesn't hurt herself further."

Rose felt cold hands grasp her neck - the Doctor was holding her head carefully in his lap, as she felt Jack clamp down on her wrists, keeping them still.

Rose forced herself to open her eyes and look at the Doctor. He was panting slightly and was looking down at her with a fear that she rarely saw, if ever.

"Doctor," she rasped.

"Don't try to talk just now," he told her. "Wait it out - it won't be much longer."

"Please..."

He looked as if he wanted to tear his hair out. "I know - I'm sorry."

"Help me," she whispered.

"I will, Rose. I promise."

"We both will," Jack said, his voice full of compassion and meaning.

There was a burning now, in her mind as well as her chest, and it raged against her, burning her, hurting her. It was ongoing and excruciating, and she couldn't focus, couldn't stay, couldn't...

"Please, make it stop!" she gasped, before everything turned black and was finally silent and still.

…


End file.
